


Free!lance

by Daxii



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Coffeeshop AU, False Accusations, Hairplay, Haru's not as much of a whore as the tags make out, Jealousy, Kisumi's Kisumiing everywhere, M/M, Rin likes it rough, Sketching, Slow Build, and sprinklings of my daft humour, bathtub chats, boys night in, break ups, clingy Kisi, eventual Makoharu, fucking to forget, meeting over muffins, pretty eyes, slow break-up, there's gonna be much fluff, when the wife does summaries for you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 15:17:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 24,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3655137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daxii/pseuds/Daxii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Reboot edition.</p><p>His cop-boyfriend Rin is the dictionary-definition of "volatile."</p><p>His ex Kisumi flirts a little (no ... a LOT) more with him than your usual ex.</p><p>And his new friend Makoto is just learning he might not be as straight as he thought.</p><p>Good thing Haru works freelance</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The original for this will remain available on my account until I've caught up to it with the rewrite, and then this version will permanently replace it. So if you want spoilers, and want to laugh at my early writing skill, you can navigate your way there (don't, it's nothing but dialogue and basically just me stabbing at characterisation, but I really like the plot so I'm doing it some justice here!)

Kisumi can’t help but break into a smile as soon as he sees Haruka approaching the Candyfloss Café. The door chimes, that little cheery tingle, and Haru approaches the counter, face set into his usual straight stare.

“Kisumi…” he greets with a long suffering sigh. He just won’t stop _smiling_.

“Muffins?” Kisumi asks, beaming, and reaching for Haru’s tupperware to take a peak.

He nods, and then begins the wait.

“I swear you only come here for the free tea,” Kisumi says, rolling his eyes, even as he hands over the steaming mug.

And, well, _yeah_ , that’s kinda the whole fucking _point_ , in this little deal they’ve got going, but whatever, Kisumi’s obviously had a long day. Now he’s getting all needy. Haru’s long dealt with that sullen little look in his eyes behind his grin, knows when it’s just a little bit tired and probably forced. He offers up his own attempt at a smile, and it does _something_ , like it always has, and Kisumi’s face softens into his familiar comfortable grin, the spark glinting away in his funny coloured eyes.

“Just let me do a whip-round, and then I’ll feed you, kay?”

Haru accepts this silently, and is pleased to note his favourite table, in the corner, up against the window looking out, is free. He takes his seat and goes into his satchel for his sketchbook, and is drawn to shading a scape he’d done on a hike the other week in pencil, rather than picking up with something new.

 

Kisumi makes his way around his little café, taking used cups, saucers and plates back to the counter so he can take them through to the kitchen in just a moment. The shop’s been pretty dead today, which is surprising for the first day of spring break, and so he really doesn’t mind that the poor chap hunched over his laptop at the table nearest to the counter is still here after, oh, it must be three hours now?

He smiles as he takes his cold, forgotten mug of mocha. “I’ll get you a fresh one, Makoto?” he offers gently.

Makoto, tall, soft brown hair, the _kindest_ green eyes and just… well, all over Kisumi’s type, basically, blinks into awareness and sighs, looking disappointedly at his wasted drink.

“Please,” he groans, reaching for his wallet.

Kisumi accepts the coins pressed into his palm with a forced thanks. Well there goes his attempt at _that_ good gesture.

“Working awful hard, to say you _especially_ should be making the most of the next couple of weeks,” he tries to sound upbeat.

He knows from pervious snippets of conversation that Makoto, Makoto Tachibana, because they’re even friends on Facebook now, is a teacher. Fifth graders, if he recalls correctly, he must have been _longing_ for some time off.

“I’m having my brother and sister to stay while our parents take a trip for their anniversary,” Makoto says, and despite his tired eyes, he smiles brightly. Kisumi’s heart melts.

“Twins, right?” he asks, just to check.

“Mm,” Makoto agrees, meeting Kisumi’s eye and looking genuinely pleased that Kisumi has apparently paid so much attention to their short conversations over the checkout these last few months. “Ren and Ran… they’ll just be going into middle school after the break.”

“Ah… what a fun age. Oh, hey, Haru just brought in some blueberry muffins. You liked them last week, right?”

Makoto nods, looking eager. Kisumi’s figured this guy has a bit of a sweet tooth, and _oh_ does Haru know how to cater for one of those. Kisumi’s never been more thankful for his best friend.

“Uh, who’s Haru?” Makoto asks, derailing from a second reach for his wallet.

“Over there,” Kisumi points, “I sell his cakes a few times a week. Excellent cook… the only reason I didn’t live off cup ramen in university!”

“Oh, wow. Fresh, then?” Makoto smiles and finally opens up the leather pouch, but then sinks into a frown. “Huh, not today. I’m out of change.”

Kisumi gives himself a mental pat on the back. “It’s on me. I’m sure Haru won’t mind,” he smiles.

 

Haruka narrows his eyebrows at the street, listening in. Not by _choice_ , necessarily, it’s just he’s so used to Kisumi’s grand ideas he tunes into his bouncy chatter more as a safety precaution, than anything, so he knows to book up that date _here_ and _maaaybe_ leave that one free, if he doesn’t annoy him too much in the meantime.

He sighs internally. This probably isn’t a new thing for Kisumi… no, wait, it _definitely_ isn’t. He’s known him since they were twelve, after all. Always been a flirt… And Haru’s always been an unwilling wingman.

He just hope he hurries up with his lunch.

 

“You’re shameless,” he accuses by way of greeting the next day, somehow managing to be graceful even as he unceremoniously plonks the plastic box down on the counter.

“It’s great to see you too, Haru!” Kisumi smirks at him, leaning down on his elbows so he shrinks to look Haru in the eye. “Who spat in your mackerel this morning?”

Haru narrows his eyes and folds his arms. “Stop giving my food away. You’re such a _flirt_.”

“Oh re _lax_. You know I’ve put your half in your pot anyway. You never _did_ master the art of allure, did you? Even with those pretty eyes,” and he flutters his lashes for effect.

Haru flicks his forehead. “Feed me.”

“Don’t tell me you’re _jealous_ , Haru?” Kisumi giggles, following him to his seat with his drink.

“Don’t be an idiot.”

_Easier said than done._

 

“How were the kids, Makoto?” Kisumi asks as he takes over a fresh vanilla mocha. _Such_ a sweet tooth. He even stirs in his preferred two sugars for him.

“They were great! So energetic though. They’re excited about starting school too, which is good.”

“Aww, that’s awesome. Not so great on my end… my parents just got confirmation they can transfer Hayato. He was being bullied in his old school… and now he’s just plain scared.”

They share a soft frown, but then something seems to click in Makoto. “Shigino, right?”

Kisumi nods, eyebrow raising in slow motion.

“I have a Hayato Shigino on my roster for the new school year. Looks like he’s in my class… any muffins left?”

He feels sort of like a criminal telling him no. “Haru brought carrot cake though… there’s just a few slices left. He’s a wizard with the fondant.”

Makoto is clearly satisfied as he tucks in, and Kisumi sinks into the seat opposite him. They’re _right by_ the counter, after all.

“I think I saw Haru at the pool this morning, actually,” Makoto muses between bites.

“Oh, yeah, wouldn’t surprise me. I swear he’s descended from mermaids. Proper little hydrophile,” he smirks, fondly.

“He’s so _fast_ … and… it might sound odd, but he’s just _beautiful_ when he swims…. That’s if it was him. Didn’t get a good look.”

Kisumi thinks this description sounds incredibly familiar and oh… “Speak of the devil,” he sings, glancing over his shoulder as the door chimes and Haru steps in, right on cue.

“Don’t call me a devil,” Haru frowns and _accidentally_ knocks into him. He’s one step from just bonking him on the head with the box, but Kisumi grabs it from him before he can put the plan into action.

“Ooh, blueberry! Want one, Makoto?”

Makoto looks down at his plate of carrot cake, just a mouthful left, looking decidedly _torn_. “I really shouldn’t… I’ve been trying to stay in shape.”

“That’s why you went swimming,” Haru says aloud, remembering this morning, passing him in the lanes.

“So it _was_ you,” Makoto says, sounding pleased, and they look each other over, a little longer this time.

Long enough that neither of them notice the little smile Kisumi gives them as he looks between them.


	2. Chapter 2

Makoto plops into a chair, an uncharacteristic frown adorning his face, and honestly, Kisumi’s never _seen_ something so heart-breaking. And here was he, hoping for a splashing of sunshine on this cloudy spring day. He seems to suddenly realise how sullenly he’s walked into the place, and glances concernedly up at Kisumi.

Kisumi’s one step ahead of him, already setting a blueberry muffin onto a plate and hitting up the machine to make his mocha, and shoots him a soft smile, willing him to stay in his seat.

“Last one, saved it just for you,” Kisumi tells him gently, taking over the muffin and mocha. “What’s up?”

“ _Women_ ,” Makoto practically hisses, a sound so strange in his soft voice.

Kisumi takes the seat opposite him, doing a final glance around to make sure his other customers are content. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

“I don’t… not anymore, at least…” Makoto says, sounding completely miserable.

Kisumi frowns and tentatively places his hand on Makoto’s arm in a gentle pat. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” and Makoto bonks his head down, forehead settling on Kisumi’s hand, where he takes a deep breath, before gathering himself and retracting with an apology.

Kisumi has just enough time for his light blush to fade before muttering a dismissal, and Makoto finally tucks in, and the change is almost immediate with Makoto’s face brightening.

He swallows the last of his muffin. “These are so good.”

“Thank you,” a new voice says from above them, and they both look up to see Haruka (and Kisumi had obviously been a bit _distracted_ watching Makoto to even hear the chime ring on the door). “Can I use your bathroom?”

It’s more of a demand than a request, and Kisumi damn well knows it. He chances a “what’s up” as Haru lets himself into the back, behind the counter.

Haru doesn’t even pause when he barks a singular “Rin”.

“Needn’t have asked…” Kisumi mumbles, leaving his seat and taking Makoto’s empty plate. Makoto shoots him a concerned, questioning glance. “They have a seriously unhealthy relationship.”

“So I’m not the only one having romance problems today, huh?”

 

Kisumi knows this behaviour, and gives the clock another glance. Following his gaze, Makoto asks “Is he alright up there?”

“…It _has_ been a while,” Kisumi agrees, pondering. “I’m sorry to ask, but… could you run up and check on him. I can’t leave the front…”

Makoto nods, pleasantly, “Sure, I don’t mind,” and he smiles as Kisumi lets him into the back, and points him towards the stairs.

He bounds up and pushes into Kisumi’s little flat. The bedroom door is hanging open, and both that and the main room are uninhabited, but Haru _did_ ask to use the bathroom… it’s just… _what could he be doing in there?_

He knocks once on the door. There’s a splash, and an incredibly grumpy “ _what?!”_ echoes through the wood.

“It’s Makoto… we’re just wondering if you’re okay…” he says, voice pitching with nerves and concern.

There’s another splash, followed by an unintelligible grunt.

“Uh… can I come in? I can’t really tell what you’re saying…”

 _Splash_.

Makoto decides to interpret that as a _yes_ and pushes into the room, stepping around the door, and he find Haruka sitting in the bath, leaning back against the edge with his knees poking out and… wait… are those _jammers_ he’s wearing?

A little dumfounded, Makoto forgets for a minute why he’s even here, and bumbles out an slurred “what are you doing?”

“Thinking,” Haru grunts.

“In Kisumi’s bath?”

“Mine’s… unavailable…” and Haru sinks under the water, leaving his nose out to breathe.

Makoto works with children, and it doesn’t take him long to realise that this is quite simply a _sulk_ Haru is pulling.

“Kisumi mentioned you might be having love-life troubles,” Makoto says, and takes a seat on the closed toilet.

Haru gives him a look, but declines to comment.

“Something like that,” he responds.

“I’m in the same boat… my girlfriend just broke up with me,” Makoto says, sullen again, but Haru sits up and tries for sympathetic.

“That sucks.”

“You’re not that bad then?” and Haru shrugs. “Go on, I’m a good listener.”

Haru’s actually sort of feeling like _he_ should be the one doing the listening, but he’s also not about to offer. With a sigh, he gives in, surprising himself with just how easily he’s opening up.

“Rin’s sister’s come to stay…”

“Trouble with the in-laws?”

Haru smirks. “She spends and ungodly amount of time in the bathroom.”

Mirroring the amused little look, Makoto gestures to their surroundings. “Do you really have any room to talk?”

He can only squeak a hurried apology when Haru glares at him in return. “I need the water to think,” he says, defensively.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You’re nosy,” Haru sighs, and sinks back down.

Makoto balks and silence overcomes them. It’s probably another ten minutes before Haru pulls himself out of the tub, and Makoto feels an unpleasant, tepid drip on his neck a Haru runs out of room in the cramped bathroom, but it brings him out of his own thoughtful revere quickly enough.

“Finished thinking?” they ask each other in unison, and even Haru feels his lip twitch into a smile as he dries himself off. They nod their affirmatives.

“Haru…” Makoto starts as they make their way downstairs, Haru having pillaged Kisumi’s drawers for dry underwear with a familiarity that almost had Makoto alarmed, “why were you wearing a swimsuit?”

Haru just gives a shrug as he rests against the counter, close enough for Kisumi to get a good luck at him and cease his worrying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Chocolate Day, chickens!  
> thanks for reading, as always.  
> I have nothing insightful or amusing to say, I'm too full of food.   
> Comments and kudos always appreciated <3


	3. Chapter 3

It’s later in the week, after Haru’s Bathroom Incident, and Makoto hasn’t seen him since, although the way Kisumi’s been looking up at his ceiling every so often when he comes in for his after work coffee and cake suggests he’s already missed his arrival, but that doesn’t appear to be the case today. On offer today is some lovely lemon drizzle, and Makoto is eager for a slice.

“So what does Haru do for a living? Besides baking, of course,” he asks Kisumi, curiously.

“Just freelance,” Kisumi shrugs dismissively.

“Freelance baking?”

“Mm… and a bit of art, sometimes swimming if he _really_ needs the prize money,” and Kisumi frowns as he says it, because he knows better than anyone how much Haru _hates_ that. “Anything, really… he’s really talented.”

“So no… no real job… I’m not judging, just…”

Kisumi shakes his head, smiling. “It’s fine... he’s never really been set on doing anything. He majored in art but… _art school_ , you know… I’ve offered him a place here plenty of times. He’d be a fine chef, get some home cooked goodies on the menu rather than just me knocking up sandwiches. He says it’s _too much effort_ , lazy bastard,” he smiles affectionately.

 

The door chimes and in comes a red haired police officer, looking particularly stony, like he’s been rudely awakened, with an old biscuit tin under his arm. Without a hint of emotion, Kisumi presents a black coffee and boxes up a cake in a take-out tub, and Makoto watches the silent exchange completely confused.

“Kisumi,” the cop finally acknowledges as he’s dredging his cup and sliding some coins across, and Kisumi softens a little in the way he looks at him, like they’re passing some kind of understanding through their eyes.

He sets the box on the table and seems to chance a glance towards Makoto, before turning on his heel and ambling out again. Makoto thinks he looks oddly _familiar_ … he never forgets a face, and especially one with teeth like _those_ , but he can’t help but wonder…

“Odd,” Kisumi comments when the door has closed. “I wonder where Haru is?” and that confirms Makoto’s suspicion that he wasn’t up in the bath today.

Makoto looks excitedly as Kisumi unveils the flapjacks in the box. So they cop had obviously been making a delivery on his behalf… well how’s about that, then.

“He was… cold,” Makoto decides, looking at Kisumi for more of an explanation.

“Eh, he’s a bit of a softy, really. Didn’t realise he’d be working this early, though. I’m surprise he came in wearing that.”

“His uniform? But he’s a cop…?” and Makoto’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

Kisumi bites back his laughter. “Really, Mako, are you _blind?_ He’s a _stripper!_ ”

“ _Really?!_ ” Makoto exclaims in shock, and it’s all Kisumi can do to clasp a hand over his mouth.

Makoto wonders if Haru works as a freelance stripper, too.

 

Haru finally makes an appearance in the shop again the next day, coming in laden with boxes to make up for his measly offer yesterday.

“Hey, Haru!” Kisumi calls excitedly across to him, like he’s missed him _so much_. “Where _were_ you yesterday?! Sharkweek was scaring the customers,” and he bundles a reluctant Haru into a hug over the counter.

“Winning,” Haru coughs out, pulling away with a frown.

“Oh, you had a race? You should have told me!”

“Last minute thing… the car needs a service,” he shrugs.

Kisumi can see Haru’s eyes drifting over to Makoto’s table.

“Looking for something?” he teases.

Haru snaps his gaze back. “Where’s my sandwich?”

“Coming, slave drive,” Kisumi rolls his eyes.

 

Halfway through picking at his side salad, waiting for the hot sandwich to cool, Makoto slumps into the doorway, shaking out his wet hair from the shower Haru had barely managed to miss. He watches the droplets run from his cheek to his jaw, and _oh_ , _wow_ …

Kisumi throws him a flirtatious smile and a towel along with it to rub down with, and Makoto squelches his way over to his usual seat with a thanks.

“Did I see you life guarding at the pool this morning, Haru? I was there with my class… but you were in the lane pool, I think?”

“Hn,” was Haru’s attempt at a yes around the first bite of his panini.

“Is freelance lifeguarding even a thing?” Kisumi mocks, trading Makoto a mocha for the money he’s set out on the table. Haru shrugs, which only results in a rough hand clapped onto his shoulder. “Well, hows about being a freelance barista for me Sunday afternoon?”

Haru shoots him a scornful look.

“Because you love me,” Kisumi pleads.

“Not _that_ much,” Haru decides.

Kisumi flops over his back, weighing down on his shoulders and nudging his nose to his neck. He’s trying to be affectionate, forgiving, sort of. Makoto thinks it’s cute. Haru thinks it’s _annoying_.

“Worth a shot,” Kisumi sighs. “I have to take Hayato to visit our grandma in the afternoon. I didn’t really want to close up early.

“I could watch the shop,” Makoto offers, and then bites his tongue on his sudden remark, backtracking. “I mean… if you’re okay with that? I had a part time job in a coffee shop in college.”

“You are a _life saver,_ ” Kisumi beamed, leaping off of Haru’s back to bounce giddily at Makoto instead.

For whatever reason, decides to hang around while Kisumi shows Makoto the ropes and lets him get a feel for the machine, especially while it’s slow as it’s nearing closing time (god, just _how_ long has he been here?). He sketches, something he’s been a bit distracted from lately. Without him noticing, the clock strikes six and Kisumi turns the key in the door. There’s a warm presence looming over his shoulder.

“Is that supposed to be _me?_ ” Makoto asks, and Haru quickly hides his work, trying to decide if Makoto sounds angry or just plain _flattered_ , but that voice of his is always so mellow, he’s not learned how to distinguish it yet. He chances a glance at his face.

He’s smiling, so he nods.

“It’s so _good_ … wow…” Makoto beams, and there’s a little bit of a flush peeking at his ears.

Haru tears the page from the book. “Here.”

He has others, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohshit  
> two chapters in a day!


	4. Chapter 4

Kisumi’s pretty damn confused, to be totally honest, when Haru shows up on Sunday lunchtime, especially without any baking. He hardly ever shows up on a Sunday anyway, and he’s always religiously avoided peak times. He gives him a confused look, but that’s all he can manage, because there’s half a dozen customers backed up.

Haru leans against the side of the counter, pressed flat, eyeballing Kisumi with a mix of amusement and concern, but his cakes are disappearing from the cabinet quite nicely, so he affords him a smile when Kisumi again glances over.

“Be with you in a sec,” he grunts, apparently a little irritated with the silent staring, and then, “actually, since you’re getting it free anyway, get back here and do it yourself.”

There’s nowhere to sit anyway, so Haru obliges his flustered friend and lets himself into the back to brew up, and, because he’s in a good mood, allows Kisumi to nudge him into serving up another batch and refilling the beans in the coffee maker.

“I told you you could be a freelance barista!” Kisumi’s giggling, hooking his arm around Haru’s neck for the briefest of hugs while he’s reaching for a new box of straws with the other hand.

Haru ignores him. “Is it always this busy?” he asks instead.

“Mm,” Kisumi nods. “Always at lunchtime, and especially at weekends… not so bad in the mornings, really, just _steady_ , you know?”

“I don’t see mornings,” Haru shrugs, because of course, his night shift partner gets home in the mornings. Kisumi gives him a poke he only half deserves for that smirk on his face.

“Bet you still see the crack of dawn though!”

“More like the full moon,” and they share a side eyed look, and Haru looks so young when he’s smiling like that, like they’re kids again… almost like the light in his eyes when he first met Rin.

“Oh stop,” Kisumi gives him a casual spank, pretending to aim for his hip, but hitting just enough ass for Haru to let out a little yelp.

Haru returns the gesture with a swift jab to the ribs with his elbow, before ducking off to the side to avoid another counter attack, and he rests on Kisumi’s stool. “Maybe you should get some staff?”

“Well, I keep trying, he keeps ignoring me,” and just that little poke of his tongue out of his mouth is enough of a jab. Haru feels a pang of guilt. Kisumi settles into a smile. “I might try getting some kids in for after school and weekends, though… I can’t keep sailing this ship by myself. And I can’t really afford adult wages yet,” they both know they’d make exceptions for each other.

“You look tired,” Haru says quietly, giving him a long, hard observation.

Kisumi nods and shrugs it off.

“What about Makoto?”

“Mochas for the rest of the month,” Kisumi smiles brightly.

“Half your custom will be gone,” Kisumi likes him when he’s sarcastic, and gives his ass a wiggle in Haru’s direction while he continues working.

 

Makoto arrives as they’d arranged, a little before two, and Kisumi has slumped down at the table in front of the counter, with Haru still behind, on the stool.

“There’s something wrong with this picture…” he observes, looking between them. Haru looks away.

Kisumi take his cue to grab his rain coat, and double check with Makoto he’s confident with the equipment.

“I’ll be fine,” he assures, “besides, Haru’s here.”

Haru narrows his eyebrows down at his sketch book, because it’s a bit convenient, that, isn’t it? He’d only come in for some t –

Oh, who’s he kidding?  He gives Makoto a stern glare.

“Uh… did I say something wrong?”

“Don’t worry about him,” Kisumi smiles, leaning over and pinching one of Haru’s cheeks, “he won’t let you suffer,” and he kisses the other one. “Don’t wait up!”

He’s gone, and Makoto takes a confident position behind the till, donning an apron Haru remembers buying for Kisumi either last Christmas or the one before.

“You’re quite close, then?” he asks.

“Hn,” Haru agrees. Because long story short, it’s _something_ like that. “Since middle school,” and why does he feel the need to elaborate?

The afternoon is fairly quiet, and _Haru_ is fairly quiet, but Makoto’s taking it in his stride, giving an appreciative nod when Haru gets up to collect dishes and wipe down the tables. He leaves them as a nice little welcome home gift for Kisumi in the back of the kitchen.

There’s a group of girls sipping lattes at the large table across from them, and amongst the giggles, Haru’s getting snippets of their conversation.

“But Kisumi-san is more well rounded, he’s handsome _and_ hot. That one’s too skinny, and _that_ one’s too cute.”

“His eyes are pretty… they’re so blue.”

“He seems like a jerk though.”

There’s a shrug. “Maybe he’s just shy?”

“No charisma. Not my type. And that other one’s sweet but… I want more of a man, you know?”

Haru’s holding back a snort, because they’ll be 100% _arrested_ if they even _wanted_ to pull anything with these kids, no matter what strings Rin tries to pull.

 

Makoto does the dishes Haru had left for Kisumi. “I wasn’t really expecting you to help,” he comments, idly, before biting his tongue on his accidental rudeness.

Haru shrugs. “It was busy; I was bored. Am I skinny?”

“What?” Makoto looks at him, confused by the sudden question, but Haru holds his gaze. He has no choice but to look him up and down. He’s seen him in the pool a few times now, and of course that time in Kisumi’s bath…. “Not when you’re undressed,” he concludes, with a blush to his ears.

Haru raises an eyebrow.

“I mean. Uh. You’re definitely slim and you’re not bulky but you’re… you know… toned. I suppose your clothes could make you seem skinny.”

He’s blushing just _furiously_ now, so Haru lets up and they fall into an easy silence. Easy for Haru, that is. Makoto feels like _squirming._ Haru’s beginning to get annoyed with his fidgeting as they sit waiting for Kisumi. It’s an early closing on Sundays, four o’clock, and Kisumi should be back any minute, but Haru knows he’s pushing Rin’s patience waiting around, because he always makes a roast on Sundays. Oh well. He’ll live.

“Are my eyes pretty?” he asks casually.

“ _Haru?!_ ” Makoto balks. “Where is this coming from?” he just can’t stand it, he’s never done well with intimate questions, and he can’t even look at Haru now, because _yes_ , his eyes are big and blue and _sparkly_.

“Those girls,” Haru shrugs. “They thought Kisumi was better looking than us.”

“Oh… sorry,” Makoto breathes, because he’s so flustered.

“Why? Are my eyes not pretty?”

With a chuckle, Makoto regains enough composure to look back up at him. “Yes, Haru. Your eyes are very pretty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's supposed to be a REWRITE, Kisumi. Did we have casual spanking in the first one?! NO! NO WE DID NOT!  
> I need to get a grip on this guy >.


	5. Chapter 5

It’s taken several apologetic phone calls and more sappy texts than he cares to count, but on Wednesday his ex has agreed to let him take her out for coffee, just to _see each other_ , at the very least. One guess as to where he’s taking her.

 _Yup_.

Kisumi’s had enough catastrophic relationships that he can easily recognise Makoto’s awkward stance and nervous sweat as the traits of a guy _in the shit_. He gives the _very_ familiar, familiar enough that he’s damn sure he’s _met_ her before, young woman a welcoming smile, and Makoto steps up to introduce her.

“Kisumi, this is Kou,” he smiles, proud, “my… uh… well, what would you like?” he’s shuffling, confidence buckling, lost in the void and afraid to put a label on their relationship.

She’s quite sweet and bright, even if she does seem a little uncomfortable. “A cappuccino, please. And… one of these brownies?”

Makoto breaks into a smile. “My friend makes these. He’s the best baker,” and Kisumi is absolutely forcing his face to stay professional, feeling endlessly proud of Haru, hearing Makoto’s praise.

They sit off into a corner, and it’s during that odd after-lunch lull on a Saturday. Kisumi’s already done the dishes, and it’s not that he wants to hoard Makoto all to himself, _but…_ he’s accustomed to his company. He’s warm and kind and even if he is completely straight, not to mention out of Kisumi’s league to boot, he’s still nothing short of _nice to look at_.

Things don’t seem to be going too great on Makoto’s end, though…

“I’m sorry,” Kou says, quietly, and Kisumi looks to the window to pretend he can’t hear. “But you’re just too… _safe_.”

“Safe…” Makoto repeats, sort of like a question but mostly in blind acceptance. “And that’s…?”

“Boring,” Kou surmises with a shrug, and pushes her plate away a little. “I’m sorry… I’m going to go. I’m viewing an apartment.”

Makoto nods solemnly and watches her pass by the window, with the smallest of waves. He grunts, annoyed more with himself than anything, and slumps his head into the table.

Kisumi delivers a fresh drink and a pat on the shoulder.

“Not going well?” he asks, uselessly, rubbing little circles.

“I just didn’t want to give up…” Makoto shrugs.

This isn’t _exactly_ Kisumi’s forte. He’s dealt with the results of one of Haru and Rin’s blow outs plenty of times, and always driven Haru home in time for some make up making out before he has to go to work, but this… this is different.

“Plenty of fish, and all that,” he tries to smile.

And he is _completely_ saved by the bell, or more accurately the chime of the door, and glances up to see Haru looking a little concerned over Makoto’s crumpled state. “I’ll let Haru take over,” he smiles.

Haru burns a harsh look into him, because what’s _he_ supposed to do about… whatever this is. Kisumi pushes a glass of tea into his hands and mumbles something about a failed make-up date.

“You just missed her…” he carries on.

“Probably for the best,” replies Haru, feeling like he already can’t stand this chick for wiping the smile so thoroughly from Makoto’s face.

 

Sitting quietly across from him, Makoto offers a weak smile in lieu of a greeting. He doesn’t have a _clue_ what he’s supposed to be saying, or doing, or even _thinking_ , so he rolls with his instincts and pulls out his sketch pad. Makoto’s good looking, there’s no denying it. Kisumi’s definitely being a _little_ (lot) tactless with his blatant attraction but… well… Haru can’t blame him.

He traces his features. His jaw is _particularly_ nice on the aesthetics, but he’s struggling with the cheekbones. They just don’t have the same effect when he’s frowning.

“You’re not as nice to draw when you’re sad…” he mumbles, nudging his foot under the table with his.

Something softens in Makoto. Maybe it’s just his inherent dersire to please, or maybe Haru’s actually accomplished something, because Makoto’s sitting back and smiling, just gently, he’s not _happy_ , not by a long shot, but his face has regained its usual resting expression, and it makes the corners of Haru’s lips twitch upwards too.

Makoto waits expectantly to at least be _shown_ the finished product, but Haru’s sliding it back into his bag.

“You got to keep the last one,” he explains, reading his expression. “This one’s mine.”


	6. Chapter 6

Haru and Makoto are over at the back of the shop, discussing a magazine. Haru is educating him on the proper fit of swimwear.

“Hey, Haru,” Kisumi calls, seeing Rin approaching through the window, “Fin’s here, and…” oh, _shit_ , _now_ he knows why he recognises Kou.

She’s Rin’s sister.

“Mako,” he warns, just in time, and they both look over to the door to see Rin bouncing in.

Gou slows, exchanging a long look with Makoto, who smiles, a soft apology for even _existing_.

Rin kisses Haru on the cheek, wet and cheeky, and nuzzles along his jaw to nibble at his ear. Haru grunts, a pleased little noise as he sets his hands on Rin’s hips. Rin slips into his lap, arms around his neck, and Haru can _tell_ he’s tired, having switched up his sleeping pattern a little to spend some time with his sister during the evening, instead of going to bed after lunch to spend the morning with Haru. Rin grins, looking expectantly between Haru and Makoto.

“This is Rin,” Haru introduces, squeezing around his waist to stop him smiling like an idiot, and looks Makoto over for any signs of discomfort.

Rin is clingy, Rin likes to show off their relationship, likes to cuddle up just as they would at home, and Haru’s got used to him over the years, even if he still has to keep him restrained.

“Oh,” Makoto deadpans, blinking. It must be obvious on his face, how he wasn’t expecting _this._ “Oh,” he says again, and rubs the back of his neck. “ _Rin_ , right. Unisex.”

“You have a girly name too,” Haru shrugs, and tightens his hold a little on Rin, and Rin feels him tense.

“And you have a girly name three,” he teases, poking Haru on the nose. “Don’t worry about it,” he smiles, recognising Makoto from his visit the other week. He’s in a much better mood this time. “Why don’t you talk about me to your friends, Haru? This is my baby sister, Gou. She’s been staying with us since her asshole ex left her.”

Makoto squirms now, and Gou is just hovering by the counter, a bit too flabbergasted to even correct Rin on her preferred name.

“Kou,” Makoto mumbles.

Rin and Haru’s eyes widen.

“ _You_ ,” Rin is suddenly _not_ in a good mood anymore. “You’re the asshole?!” he splutters.

Kisumi, who’s been having whispered words with Gou about just how _awkward_ this is, interjects hastily. “Hey, Fishstick, that’s my best customer,” he warns to Rin.

Rin bares his teeth. “Can it, Smoochums,” he grumbles.

Gou tugs at his sleeve. “We should just go…”

He’s so obviously torn, trying to glare at this bastard while at the same time reassure his sister with a smile, and all the while sinking further into Haru to just _save him_. Haru kisses him lightly, just on the back of his neck.

“Go on,” he says, agreeing with Gou for the first time in weeks. “I’ll get some steak for dinner.”

“Right,” Rin mumbles, feeling considerably _rejected_. He demands a kiss, a proper one, hut just feels even _shittier_ about the whole thing when Haru keeps his mouth firmly closed. “I love you,” he says, begging, failing entirely at subtlety, but Haru isn’t having _any_ of it.

“I love you too,” he promises, pushing at him to get up.

Rin’s had it now. He leaves with a “whatever” and a glare thrown over his shoulder. Even Gou waits to pass them a soft smile before hurrying after him.

 

Haru sighs, followed by Kisumi, and Makoto tacks in at the end, resting his head on the table and letting it leak out into an unrestrained groan. Kisumi brings Haru water (because he knows how this goes) and runs a soothing hand up through his hair at the back, tussling lightly.

“Well _that_ wasn’t awkward at all,” he says to break the silence, so thick with sarcasm it makes Makoto wince.

“I’ll talk to him,” Haru mumbles to Makoto, and gives Kisumi an appreciative look, saying _it’s ok_. He drops his hand, leaving them to it. “I don’t blame you,” Haru continues.

Makoto grunts, eyebrow cocked in question.

“For dumping Gou,” Haru shrugs. “She’s… annoying,” he decides is the word. She could be _worse,_ yes, he does _care_ about her, quite considerably, but she’s too much like her brother, except he doesn’t fancy the pants off her to make up for it.

“ _She_ dumped _me_ ,” Makoto explains, exasperated.

“Why?” Haru asks, because _really, just **why?**_

Makoto shrugs. He’s still stewing the whole _safe_ thing over in his head.

 

Haru buys steak, as promised, and hands it over to Gou to cook and goes to find Rin napping in the bedroom, flat out on his front and sprawling everywhere, blanket slipped down to his hips. His top half is bare, but Haru can see the red of his boxers peeking out. He sits down on the bed next to him, and Rin wakes enough to move his head into his lap.

“I’m angry with you,” he tells him outright.

“I don’t even care, Haruka,” the full name said with an obvious frown. “This is my _sister_ we’re talking about.”

“He’s my friend. And he’s done nothing wrong.”

“Don’t you even _care_ about your own _family?!_ ” Rin demands. He rolls away and sits up beside him, both looking down at the deliberate _space_ between their legs, where they would usually be all tangled up. “You can’t choose him over me.”

“I can if you’re being an _idiot_ ,” Haru spits.

“But _Gou_ –”

“Can look after her _self_. _She_ finished _him_.”

“I don’t even care, Haru. Since when did you get so _pally_ with this guy? And you didn’t even _tell_ him about me.”

“He’s always known,” Haru says, honestly and quietly.

“Yeah, you just didn’t want your new bestie to know you take it up the ass! Why aren’t you proud of me?!”

“I _am_ proud of you…”

“Whatever, Haru. Since when do you even _have_ friends?”

 

Haru skips dinner in favour of a swim. He’s supposed to be checking out another flat with Gou in the morning, and then they’re both going for dinner with Rin in the evening.

He heads of to Kisumi’s as soon as Rin goes to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have NEVER written a couple arguing before, this end scene with Rin and Haru is something I pussied out of writing in the first go with this, so I'd love feedback on that, whether it has the right tone etc etc.   
> daxii on tumblr


	7. Chapter 7

­Kisumi’s quite relieved when Makoto comes into the shop on his way home from work, just as he does every day. He’s been needing to run up to Haru for _hours_ at this point, having only seen him for the _briefest_ of explanations for his early visit and a quick cup of tea and a snack in the back of the kitchen before the lunch rush. He pays Makoto off with an extra-large mocha and takes the stairs two at a time.

Haru’s sprawled on his back on the couch, head tilted lazily towards the lame comedy reruns on the TV. He blinks in acknowledgement when Kisumi crouches in front of him and strokes his bangs back with a few gentle sweeps.

“Hey,” he greets, twirling a strand of hair. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Haru shrugs, but at least makes the effort to meet his eyes.

“I’ll send something up in a bit, yeah? Makoto’s here.”

“I figured,” Haru drones.

Kisumi pretends to make a shocked gasp. “Rather have him than me?”

“He’s less _annoying_ ,” Haru moans, nudging him just lightly in the chest.

“I’ll leave you to think, then. Have a bath if you want… food in a bit.”

“Hn,” Haru agrees.

 

Makoto takes up the dubious looking panini ( _mackerel and pineapple, seriously?!_ ) a while later, balanced awkwardly with his own muffin on another plate and two steaming cups in his other hand.

Haru sits up, balling up on one end, and Makoto plonks down in the middle of what’s left. Gingerly, Haru takes his mug and plate, balancing them on the arm of the couch. He can feel this sort of warmth from Makoto, and it’s not just body heat. He’s perking up considerably and he’s not even said anything. He chuckles happily along with the canned laughter of the show, casting the occasional glance towards Haru who just can’t _help_ but allow him a smile.

He appreciates Makoto’s company more than he thought he would.

 

It’s nearly five, and Kisumi’s pretty sure Haru has mentioned a dinner with Rin and his sister planned for this evening, but there’s not a peep from upstairs. The café door, on the other hand…

Rin bursts in, a flurry of rain and windswept hair. “Have you seen Haru?” he demands, almost begging, looking between Kisumi and Makoto.

Makoto can recognise tear burned eyes anywhere, and shoots him a sympathetic smile before looking to Kisumi, who diligently points his eyes to the ceiling.

“Oh… figures,” Rin mutters. “All day?”

“Yup,” Kisumi says, his voice clipped and stern. “What did you do?”

Rin balks backwards for half a second, looking thoroughly _wounded_ at the accusation, before he slumps on his elbows over the counter. “We had a little fight.”

“Little, really?” Makoto huffs, to everyone’s surprise, including his own.

Rin glares, but after an awkward period of eye contact, he gives in, melting into his worry and sadness. “Is he alright?” he whispers.

Kisumi shrugs, “Just how he is when he’s pissed, you know. Pretty sure I heard the water running for a bath, too. Makoto can go and check on him, right?”

Rin _almost_ protests, but the fear of rejection halts him in his tracks. He steps aside to let Makoto past. When he’s rounded onto the stairs, Kisumi gives Rin a harsh flick to the forehead.

“Idiot.”

 

This situation feels awfully familiar to Makoto. He knocks twice on the door, and Haru splashes his acknowledgement inside.

“I’m coming in,” he warns. Haru blows a bubble under the water, only his nose exposed. “Is that not cold by now?” he asks, and dips his fingers into the water to check, because Haru doesn’t care enough to answer. And _yep_ , it’s _freezing_.

“Come on,” he keeps talking, Haru probably can’t even hear him with his ears submerged, but never mind. A gentle pat on the arm eases the rest of his head out of the water, and he finally has his attention. “You’ll make yourself ill, sitting in this,” he scolds, hand still on his arm.

Haru grunts, but there’s just something he can’t say no to with Makoto, and ends up doing as he’s told sort of automatically. Makoto slides into a smile, eyes squinting shut with just how high he raises his cheeks, just so _pleased_.

As he pats himself down, Makoto scruffs his hair with a smaller towel, and Haru feels sort of like a wet dog who’s just been let in from the rain. It wouldn’t be out of context for Makoto to go giving him a treat for not trying to nibble on his fingers, or something.

“I’m sure you can borrow some of Kisumi’s underwear… you shouldn’t keep that on,” and Makoto twangs the cuff of Haru’s swimsuit around his knee, cold and damp and clinging to his skin.

Haru’s figuring this _caring_ thing must be part and parcel of being a teacher of ten year olds, but he’s emotionally exhausted, and doesn’t have it in him to rebel against the gentle commands. Makoto’s only trying to look after him.

“I like it…” Haru mumbles, even as he’s following Makoto into Kisumi’s room and starts to pilfer his drawers for his drawers.

Haru barely gives Makoto chance to turn around when he peels off his jammers – it’s swim team conditioning – and throws them over the little heater under the window. Kisumi’s tight shorts have always come an odd way up his waist and he plucks at the fabric as he goes back to the bathroom for the rest of his clothes, annoyed. Deciding he’s taking too long, Makoto follows him, only to find him staring longingly at the water. He pulls the plug.

“Come on,” he coaxes, hand between his shoulders. “And… erm, Rin’s here.”

 _Oh_ , Haru thinks, and wonders if Makoto _knew what he’d said_ if he’d still be so nice. _Probably_ , he decides, because he just seems the type.

Kisumi’s glaring _hard_ at Rin when Haru sees them, and he’s just the _littlest_ bit worried what they’ve been talking about. Rin stands himself up, deflating, and Haru can see his sad eyes beginning to fill.

“Hey,” they both say, both dull, both obviously _needy_ for the other.

Rin barely utters an apology while Haru’s head is turned away, and Kisumi’s seen this enough times to give Haru a nudge, his cue to look up to where Rin’s got his head tilted a bit to the side and his arms twitching. Haru moves silently across the room and barely hooks his arms around Rin’s back before he’s clutched to his chest, lifting him off his feet with the sheer force of his love. Rin’s sniffling, holding back the tears, and Haru looks up at him, holding his cheek.

“Moron,” he scoffs, smiling just a little bit. Rin kisses him.

Pulling apart, Haru makes a nod towards Makoto, who’s stood a little bit bemused with Kisumi behind the counter still. Rin knows when to take a hint.

“Yeah, alright,” he mumbles to his ear, and then louder. “I’m sorry for how I treated you, Makoto,” and he forces a smile.

Makoto hadn’t been expecting that at _all_ , and doesn’t really know how to take it. They’ve fought over _him?_ He clears his throat.

“I have a younger sister too,” he explains. “I, uh… can understand you being protective.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haaaa I feel like the tone of this comes across really sleepy and sad, but that might just be because I'm dead on my feet and just reading it like that.   
> daxii on tumblr. notice me senpai.


	8. Chapter 8

Rin gets Haru home after probably the most awkward set of goodbyes he’s ever experienced, plus one _hell_ of a filthy look from Kisumi that might have just pushed its way into his ongoing top ten, shoving the “you denied him mackerel for a _week?!_ ” stare off the list. He doesn’t even want to think about the affectionate side squeeze Haru had more than willingly exchanged with Makoto. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw Haru so comfortable with _anyone_. He even gives Kisumi the cold shoulder twenty percent of the time. Not that Kisumi ever pays any mind to that and usually slobbers all over him anyway.

He’s not exactly _happy_ with allowing Gou to be escorted out by one of the guys he’s accidentally introduced her to from the station, but at least Haru seems pleased to be coming home to an empty house.

“Are you not… tired or anything?” he asks, coaxing Haru out of his thin cardigan and putting that and his loose mac in the closet under the stairs. “Since you… left so early…” he’s so awkward, rubbing the back of his neck while Haru just stands there, looking around like their hallway is somehow unfamiliar.

“Uh… no. I napped at Kisi’s,” well of course he would have. And he’s still just standing there.

“You know he hates that nickname,” Rin scolds, and dares to slide his hands around Haru’s waist. He meets no resistance.

Haru even hooks his own arms around Rin’s neck. “But he loves me.”

“Not as much as I do,” Rin mumbles into his neck, and traces down his jugular with his tongue, kissing into the dip of his collar bone. Haru tilts his head back willingly. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Mm, make-up sex?” Haru’s teasing him now, relaxing into him, all his weight dangling from his neck. In their old apartment, Rin would have scooped him up and thrown him across the hall onto their bed, but they have stairs to traverse in this new house before they can start getting frisky.

Because there’s no _way_ they’re risking the sofa again with Gou’s impending return.

He picks him up when they get to the bedroom, Haru’s thin frame still just as bony as he’s ever been, his muscles tight and light and his limbs wrapping around him so easily as Rin cups at his ass and presses him into the wall for a kiss.

“I really am sorry… he seems nice,” he soothes, while Haru’s tugging his tee off.

“Yeah. He is. I like him.”

Rin nods, hoisting Haru a little hire and walking him over to the bed, laying his back on top of their quilt. He starts to work on both their trousers.

“I think Kisi has a bit of a crush on him,” Haru continues, and _why_ is he continuing? They’re supposed to be getting down and doing the do.

“Will you suck my dick?” he interjects, because a) he wants his dick sucking, and b) he needs Haru’s mouth otherwise _occupied_.

“Are you not going to pamper me?” Haru teases, raising his hips, and Rin takes the hint to pull his pants off. He takes his shorts down with them, he doesn’t want to take his time today.

“I _always_ pamper you, you’re so spoiled.”

Rin obliges him anyway, because Haru _is_ spoiled, and Rin’s glad about it. He knows where all his little buttons are, knows just how to make him melt, knows how to make him _scream_ if he really wants to. But today’s not one of those days. Today’s a day where he just wants to hear him _moan_.

“I reckon Makoto would be a pamperer,” Haru muses aloud.

Rin adds _and shut up_ to his list of goals.

“You should ask Gou later,” he grunts, getting his pants off and lying down on top of him. Hopefully _kissing_ will be enough to distract him. “I bet Kisumi would _love_ that. He’s worse than you.”

“And how would you know?” Haru’s eyebrows narrow, and he traps Rin’s cock a little roughly between his legs.

“Oh, _jealous_ , are we?” Rin doesn’t _intend_ to sound so smug, and he doesn’t want to feel so callous, but Haru kind of deserves it.

And he’s apparently gotten the hint, too. “Ah…” he tilts his head to the side. “Sorry…”

Rin gives him a soft kiss, and obvious forgiveness. He’s _trying_ to understand. Haru’s just a bit excited with his new friend, that’s all. Plus, the guy is _straight_ , he dated his sister for crying out loud. He bucks his hips between Haru’s legs.

“Am I alright to just…?”

“Lube, Rin… come on,” Haru smiles, spreading out and giving Rin more room.

They do this often enough that Haru’s usually pretty relaxed. He grabs the bottle off the side, doing an easy sweep and a few little pumps just to get Haru coated, but he’s got a bit of a thing for stretching him open with his cock, and Haru only ever allows it when he’s feeling guilty over something, so he’s gonna make the most of it.

He’s careful to nudge Haru’s teeth away when he bites down on his shoulder with the pain, distracting him with kisses instead until he’s panting. He sort of wants to roll him over and fuck him _hard_ from behind, or get a good view of his ass when he rides him facing outwards, but Haru’s kisses are just too addictive, and he loves him just too much to tear himself away.

He’s going to cry when he comes, and Haru’s going to laugh and kiss all his tears away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So NONE of this was included in the original, but I want more juicy RinHaru bits and maybe even more attention on the KisuHaru... and I might spin that a bit too..  
> Leave me love, hope you're enjoying!


	9. Chapter 9

Makoto swirls the last dregs of his hot brew, sort of glaring at it. He’s been pretty spaced out all afternoon, after sharing a decidedly _long_ hug with Haru as Rin was dragging him off. So long that it left Kisumi pretty much missing out on getting his own little snuggle in, barely sneaking in a pat on his ass that Haru had brushed off with a smirk over his shoulder, making the wise decision not to alert Rin to what he was up to. He doesn’t need to deal with that jealous tirade _again_. Kisumi lifts Makoto’s other arm off the table, setting it on his lap so he can wipe down the vinyl cloth, and Makoto finally blinks into awareness, and looks so seriously at Kisumi he’s sort of scared.

“What did you mean when you said they had an unhealthy relationship?” he asks, the perfect pitch of a primary school teacher who’s been trained to extract nothing short of the truth from unruly preteens.

Kisumi feels like just plopping down into that big, open lap and balling up for a hug, and they’re _alone_ , the shop is closed for the evening, and Makoto probably wouldn’t flinch an inch and just pat him while he rants. He’s had this on his chest for _years_.

“They used to compete… both of them. They both wanted to reach the Olympics,” he sighs, sitting down next to him instead. He smiles a little wistfully. “Haru’s always been faster… when they were just _rivals_ , it was fine. They drove each other. You should have seen them… but then they got together. Rin couldn’t handle losing any more, and Haru couldn’t handle the guilt…” he trails off. Makoto gives him a rub on his bicep. “They argue about _everything_ , but they both keep crossing that _banter_ line. Rin’s been on his case since they graduated. Doesn’t approve of the whole _freelance_ thing… wants him to find some sort of _dream…_ ” he groans. “He doesn’t understand him.”

Makoto nods. At least now he has an explanation for why Haru’s never taken his swimming to a professional level. He’s timed his laps in mental Mississippi seconds on more than one occasion, and Haru’s up there with all the records, and he’s not even _trying_.

“He’s pretty spectacular, isn’t he?” he muses, met by a hastily agreeing nod. And then Kisumi slumps his head onto Makoto’s shoulder, and all he can think is that he’s _exhausted_. He rubs his back.

“Can I ask you a favour?” Makoto nods, letting Kisumi sink into the table. “I’m holding interviews on Friday for some kids to clean after school or work the front on weekends… and I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

He gives Makoto a look from under his messy pink fringe, and even though Makoto’s worked out the request, he lets him carry on.

“Care to supervise?”

“Of course. It’ll be my pleasure,” he smiles.

 

“It sounds like effort,” Haru grunts when Kisumi poses him the same question the next day, and Kisumi makes a mad skip around a table and over a chair to grab him around the waist from behind, tall enough to immobilise his head by catching the top of it under his chin, and just grips. Haru freezes.

“Pl _eeeeeease_ ,” Kisumi begs, lifting Haru just an inch off the ground and setting him back down on top of his own feet. He does a strange waddle over to where Makoto’s mopping the floor, making a bit of a puddle where he’s stopped to give them an amused and very confused look.

“What are you doing?” he asks, Haru’s face wearing the exact same question, even though he looks as far from _uncomfortable_ as he can probably get. _Exasperated_ , more like, the complete epitome of long suffering.

“Don’t even know,” Kisumi says, honest as he’s ever been, lifting Haru up into a complete three-sixty spin. He sets him back down and hunkers over, head on his shoulder, swaying them just a bit. “I think I had too much coffee,” he decides.

Haru rolls his eyes. “Thought you’d be immune to it by now.”

“But I’ve just been so _tiiiired_ ,” he whines, ducking his face right into Haru’s neck, tickling him with his stubble, and just completely softening around him in a needy, almost childish hug. “This is why I need you.”

Haru throws Makoto a look, agape with concern and irritation, looking for some back up, but Makoto’s burning this warning stare into him, like he’s willing Haru to relent without words. He finally tilts to Kisumi, just a little bit, and brings his arm around to hook his neck in the tiniest show of affection. “Fine.”

“Yay,” Kisumi just barely manages to squeak.

Haru manages to push him down into a chair and toys with his hair. Makoto fetches him some water, and they sit either side of him, Haru guiding his head to his shoulder in a hug.

“Is he alright?” Makoto mouths, with an air of obvious, older-brother worry.

“He’s fine,” Haru drawls back, stroking the hair out of his face. “When was the last time you had a day off?”

“When I was still living with you,” Kisumi grunts. Makoto is hit with the answer to a question he didn’t know he even had. This explains why they’re so _close_ , at least.

Haru and Makoto look at each other silently over his head. It’s something they’ve both noticed, how his crazy spark has been slipping, how he gets about five times clingier as closing time slips closer, and tonight he’s just _crashed_.

“How about,” Makoto starts, taking authority and control of the situation, assuming his automatic role as ‘adult’ for the group, because god knows Haru and Kisumi aren’t ever going to fit the bill, “Haru gets you upstairs… orders us some take out... and I’ll finish cleaning down here and lock up. Boys night in?”

Haru squeezes Kisumi’s shoulders, prompting him to grunt a yes, and manages to manhandle him up stairs. He considers not texting Rin to let him know he won’t be home before he goes to work, some grudging part of him still mad over the other day. But he doesn’t want to deal with another fall out, so as soon as Kisumi’s settled into his beaten, old recliner, with his feet up and a blanket Haru distinctly remembers buying for _Hayato_ as a baby, and not Kisumi, he rattles off a quick note. He even leaves a kiss at the end.

 **Haru -- >** **Rin  
** Boys night in at Kisi’s. See you in the morning. X

He figures it’s not the most _unusual_ thing for a couple where one partner works nights to have to go through, and sighs contentedly, stroking Kisi’s hair idly as he looks at his phone, those three little dots that mean Rin’s typing dancing away.

 **Rin -- >** **Haru**  
Can’t I come?

He reads it as the demand he knows it’s intended to be. And shoots back a lazy “ye”, deciding a “whatever” might be a bit harsh for Rin’s sensitive soul. Makoto’s still downstairs; he can hear him humming as he cleans. He slumps over Kisumi’s shoulders from behind, arms around him, nudging his cheek in a little nose-kiss.

“I miss you, you know,” Kisumi tells him, voice sombre and sad. “I love you.”

“Don’t be such a sap,” Haru scolds, giving up on his platonic rub of his nose and just giving him a straight kiss to his cheek instead. “You’re my best friend. I love you too.”

“You know what I mean,” Kisumi sighs.

“We’ll get you sorted,” he promises.

Kisumi’s completely lost his mojo. He works twelve hours with barely a chance to sit down and snack every day. He can’t even count the ten-till-four hours on a Sunday as a _break,_ because it’s just part of the endless weekend rush.

 

At least Rin proves himself useful, collecting the pizzas on his way over, and he’s almost disgustingly joyful when Haru lets him in the back door, squeezing and kissing him tight with one arm while he balances the stack of boxes with the other. He’s a ball of post-nap energy, roughly ruffling Kisumi’s hair when he gets upstairs, but drops to squeeze his shoulder in a little speck of concern when Kisumi just _groans_ at him.

“Overworked and underpaid?” he sings, sitting down at the edge of the couch closest to him and handing over his pepperoni.

“Something like that,” and he finally sits up, accepting a fresh glass of water from Makoto in his other hand, who sits at the opposite end of the sofa to Rin. Haru wedges himself in between them, and hands over Makoto’s Hawaiian. “I’m getting some staff though… take the edge off. Sucks I can’t get any daytime help though.”

Haru takes the hint, looking away, where he only meets a soft smile from Makoto. “I’ll think about it,” he grunts, feeling sort of _pressured_ just from that look, like he’d be kicking puppy Makoto and kitten Kisumi if he outright rejected them.

Rin puts his arm around Haru, tucking him in to kiss his head. Haru relaxes. Rin’s not being half as annoying as he expected, probably more out of respect for Kisumi than anything, because despite all the history between the three of them, they’ve become friends throughout it all. He squeezes Rin’s leg.

Makoto thinks Haru looks happy, tucked up under Rin’s protective arm, delicately doodling down his bicep as they eat while some subtitled movie roles. Rin must speak English, as he’s laughing away at jokes the others just aren’t getting, and then quietly explaining them to Haru – just Haru, like it’s their private little thing, until Haru snorts an unabashed laugh into his chest, and Rin smugly kisses his head or his cheek or his nose.

He has a cute laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter yet!  
> Bit more development for Kisumi here I hope, and a peek at Haru's affection for him, and whatever history they might have. I feel like this is kinda sad but fun at the same time.  
> daxii on tumblr, love me like you do.
> 
> (and a shameless self promotion for people to go and check out the fic I'm now COWRITING with the fantabulous maybeillride. If you're reading this for the interest in multiple pairings, you're gonna love that and her fantastic You And Me Could Write A BAD Romance fic, which I can't recommend enough)


	10. Chapter 10

Makoto sits off to the side with Haru, trying to keep him from looking quite so _murderous_ towards the poor teens Kisumi’s got seated around with the occasional playful nudge to his shoulder. Kisumi’s tried to write a little introductory speech, and rather than amused like Makoto, Haru just looks _embarrassed._

“ _Moron_ ,” he whispers under his breath. Makoto kicks his ankle.

But it apparently gets Kisumi’s attention enough for him to stop bumbling over his words. He turns to Haru, trying to glare but then his face lights up. Haru looks rightfully alarmed.

“And _this_ ,” Kisumi beams, stepping over and tugging him from his perch against the table by the wrist, hooks his arm over his shoulders (mostly to hold him still) and jabs him in the ribs with his elbow to try and hint at him to smile. He doesn’t smile. “Is Haruka Nanase. My best friend, my baker, and my barista!”

“I’m not your barista,” Haru practically spits. Kisumi’s smile falters.

“Freelance barista,” he corrects. Haru looks equally as unimpressed, but ignores him. He pulls Makoto to his other side. “And th _iiiis_ is Makoto! He’s… uh…” he falters, frowning. Makoto’s ears glow. “Here a lot,” he finishes.

For his part, Makoto nods politely and shrinks back, tugging the back of Haru’s shirt with him to get him into the next chair. Haru looks him over, just a little bit worried, but Makoto is nothing more than a little bit embarrassed and highly entertained.

 

Kisumi’s making a hash of this. All three of them are more than aware of it, and Haru’s hoping Makoto’s on his wavelength just enough to watch him squirm a little bit more. Makoto goes to open his mouth to interject, catches Haru’s smirk in the corner of his eye, and leans back, nudging their shoulders together. Haru nudges back, pleased.

Kisumi takes a step back, onto his toes.

Clearing his throat, he gets a bit of his composure back, and starts firing off questions about their hobbies and favourite subjects. Haru’s ears perk up when a few of them say they’re on their school swim teams. Makoto sees him make eye contact with a blue haired boy with glasses, who looks a little bit wary under his stare. It’s not that Haru’s trying to look intimidating, in fact, Makoto thinks he looks a little bit excited behind that blank mask, but he feels a bit tense by his side, like he’s feeling a little bit threatened by so many pairs of teen eyes on him. Makoto rubs his back, just a big warm hand soothing some confidence into him, and catches the attention of the nervous looking boy with silver hair, who’s tucked himself into a back corner.

“You should go and talk to those two,” he whispers to Haru, edging his head towards glasses-guy and his blonde buddy. “The kid over there looks like he needs a boost,” squeezing Haru’s shoulder, he gets up, a little glance back just to make sure he’s moving too, and makes his way over.

He’s doing his best warm smile, the kind that makes even the angriest ten year old settle into a pout to finish their rant about all the red pencils being used, and he sits low in his seat, trying to look small and safe for the boy to talk to. He knows he’s a bit of a bulk, and usually he doesn’t mind appearing as a strong figure, but he thinks it’s just gonna make this guy more uncomfortable.

“Aiichirou, right?” he asks, holding out his hand, giving the cold, trembling one he gets in return a warm squeeze as he shakes. “You swim?”

“Ye…yes, Ma-Ma-Makoto, sir,” Aiichirou gulps.

Makoto tries even harder to look like friendly, trying to pull off the smile of a golden retriever who gives pet-therapy to toddlers.

“No need to be nervous,” he smiles. “Kisumi’s nice… nothing formal here. Starting a save-o for college?”

“Something like that,” he mumbles.

Makoto talks to him about school, tells him about his siblings, even gets a giggle out of him with a silly anecdote about the cat he used to play with when he lived with his parents. Kisumi comes to him last, sitting down and hooking his arm around Makoto’s neck, earning himself a flick to the face.

Kisumi doesn’t even both with the introductions. “Pl _eeeea_ se tell me you’re available for after school shifts?” he begs, slumping into Makoto.

Aiichirou nods, and Makoto can see him perk up. “Actually… that’s the only time I’m free.”

“Hired,” Kisumi shoots out his hand, grabbing hold of Aiichirou’s in a delighted shake. “It’s just cleaning… maybe a little bit of counter work?” he says it tentatively, testing his reaction, the kid is so shy and anxious he’s a bit worried he’ll feel out of his depth, and takes little encouragement from the nod he gets.

He’s hit it off fantastically with a bouncy fifteen year old named Momotarou, and he’s also taking on the two swimmers Haru was talking to, Nagisa and Rei. He’s going to get them rotating shifts on the weekends, overlapping so he has two of them on at lunchtimes. He’ll let them work it out between themselves, for who’s free when and math it over after to make sure they all get an even split.

Aichiirou is the last to leave. Kisumi kind of wants to hug him. He’s so relieved he doesn’t have to do the dishes at the end of the day anymore, he can barely even contain it. When he gets into the red saloon that picks him up, he gives up, twirling Haru into a hug and sandwiching him with Makoto, nuzzling right into his hair, stinking of chlorine, while Makoto awkwardly pats his back around Haru, who’s pressed right into his chest, slitting his eyes and sighing, even as he hugs him back.

“You can cut back on the coffee now,” he grunts when Makoto pulls away, idly hoping it might reel him in a few notches so he’s at least only this affectionate in _private_. Hell, if _Rin_ saw the sloppy smooch he’s slapping on his forehead, there’d be war.

“Cinema, gentlemen. My treat!” Kisumi exclaims, and Haru gets a severe case of second-hand embarrassment for the both of them when Makoto gets a similar kiss to the cheek.

“Tonight?” Haru and Makoto ask together, one looking excited and the other _already_ looking bored.

“Yup! I even have a voucher for popcorn. This is my thanks, guys come on,” he grins, and turns to Haru. “Just us this time, you keep that bae of yours at home. I’d say drinks after, but…” he trails off. He still has a six am start, after all. “I guess you two could do drinks,” he shrugs.

Haru snorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Godddd this scene needing fattening up from the original. Bullshitted all the job interviews (because I've never fucking had a proper one dammit) but I like writing Ai so that was fun.   
> I have some real... /problems/ writing Rei and Nagisa. It's not that I don't like them, I just CAN'T write them. They have max 100 words of action/dialogue in my nearly 80k word fic. That's how much of a problem they are. So I'm gonna see if I can get them going some more, work with them, express with them, just... toy, while they're still barely there as background characters.   
> Please love me.


	11. Chapter 11

Because he won’t be joining the others for the drinks he insists they’re going to have on his behalf, Kisumi savvies Makoto with a pout and some pleading into doing the honours of driving them to the cinema, so he can spoil himself with the overpriced, watered down larger they serve, resulting in a slightly grumpy Haruka having to slide behind the front seat of Makoto’s red Civic to sit in the back, as the smallest, but his long legs are squished behind both chairs, rolled all the way back to accommodate Makoto and Kisumi’s even _longer_ legs. He sits behind Kisumi, because if his knees are going to annoy someone, it might as well be him. He fires Rin a text, even adding an apology and an “I love you”, and promptly turns his phone off.

Kisumi grabs Haru close under his arm after he pulls the seat forward to let him out, just loose, just slotting him in, still the perfect height to tuck him in even after all these years. Haru slides his eyes over and sighs.

“Aww, come on. Be mine for the night,” he whines.

“Kis…–”

“We’ve not hung out properly in for _ever_ ,” Kisumi continues, angling them towards the cinema while Makoto locks the car and tags along behind.

Haru sighs again. “I suppose since you’re buying… behave.”

Makoto frowns behind them. Haru might have the odd _problem_ with Rin, but he’s almost _suspiciously_ close with Kisumi, resting his arm around his lower back walking ahead of him, whispering something between them. He’s got the impression that Kisumi’s just affectionate and touchy in general, but Haru seems the opposite. Maybe this is just acceptance, just tolerant of each other’s personal preferences. He can only imagine that if Haru was more open to physical contact (and hopefully _single_ ) Kisumi would be even more all over him.

Maybe they have history. He doesn’t know if Kisumi’s gay, or just plain old clingy but… there’s something.

Haru looks over his shoulder at Makoto, concerned by his silence, and quirks his lip up a little in an attempt at a smile. He catches them up on Haru’s other side and Haru, because _why not?_ loops his arm through Makoto’s.

 _What_ was Makoto saying about Haru not being affectionate?

 

Sat in the middle, Haru is charged with holding the popcorn, which Kisumi is making the most of during the trailers and Makoto is tentatively taking, piece by piece. It’s not really Haru’s thing to be honest. He prefers salty, but he’s been outvoted by the sweet-teeth. He crosses his legs in his seat, pushing up the arm rest on Kisumi’s side to make room for his knees, leaning on his leg a bit. It’s enough to keep Kisumi pacified at least, hand coming to rest on his knee and trace little circles. He gives him a smile. He knows the boundaries, even if he likes pushing his luck a bit too.

It’s a superhero movie. Your usual mix of action, explosions, bad jokes and a cliché love scene, but while on one side he has Kisumi just in his element, on the other he feels Makoto shift anxiously. Giving Kisumi one last glance, just leaving him to do his thing, he turns to Makoto, raising an eyebrow.

“Hmm?” Makoto smiles in question

Haru just cocks his head to the side, and then turns to ignore them both at the first note of the opening theme. Kisumi squeezes his knee. He knows what a movie buff he can be.

Not five minutes in, a supporting bad guy has had his hand sliced off, and Haru _feels_ the hiss of a cringe coming from Makoto, and with a quick glance finds him turned towards him, eyes screwed shut and shoulders tight.

Oh. _Oh_. He gets it. He understood Makoto is quite the gentle soul, but hadn’t realised he’s quite this _sensitive_. He lifts up the arm rest between them too, inches to his side a little. There’s just a breath between them, he can feel his presence right there, and slowly Makoto cracks an eye open as the scene audibly changes.

“Not into gore…” he murmurs, looking a little bit embarrassed.

“It’s just ketchup,” Haru shrugs, calmly.

After the second scene of violence, which even to Haru is a bit excessive, Makoto’s edged close, pressed up now, Haru’s knee practically in his lap. He feels him tremble a little, a worried breath escape, and brings his hand to his forearm, just holding. They don’t make eye contact, don’t even look over at each other, but Haru does make sure Kisumi’s still occupied with doodling on his knee and is fully invested in the screen.

The third scene even has Kisumi making a little groan, and Makoto’s completely given up whatever act he thought he was pulling off, ducking his head to Haru’s shoulder where he hides for a moment, and returns far too quickly in mistaken belief the alien squid was no longer being hacked into sushi by chainsaws. Haru gives up too. Makoto’s a hugger… he’s not going to mind. He puts his arm around him, squeezes once, and looks back to the screen like this is _nothing_.

Honestly, just _what_ was Makoto thinking when he thought Haru wasn’t affectionate?

 

Makoto drops Kisumi off and Haru climbs out to get into the front, accepting the hug and a kiss on the forehead from Kisumi, who’s just a little bit too tipsy to keep his hands in check, holding Haru’s waist in a way that screams BOYFRIEND rather than bestie. Haru sighs as he buckles back in, avoiding Makoto’s raised eyebrow by firing off his own. Makoto is the first to apologise.

“I should probably have said I’m not really into horror…”

“It wasn’t _horror_ ,” Haru says immediately, then bites it back. “But… well… yeah, they went overboard.”

Makoto smiles, pulling away. “Thanks,” he adds, warm, genuine, just a touch of a waver.

Haru shrugs in dismissal and they drive silently, Haru grunting directions into his suburb now and then.

“Will Rin still be home?” Makoto asks.

It’s nearly nine. He’ll get about an hour of Rin sulking from his exclusion, and then a panicked twenty minute snogging session so he doesn’t leave Haru to go to bed upset.

“Yeah…” he grunts. He knows he’ll be angry. But then he has an idea. “Are we not having drinks?”

“Hmm?” Makoto glances at him, sees a strained expression over his face, like he’s reluctant. He takes the next left instead of the right to Haru’s house. “I have a bottle of wine from my mum at home we can split.”

 

Haru’s not really sure what he’s doing when Makoto lets him in and takes his jacket. He shouldn’t be here. He lets Makoto direct him to the couch anyway. He balls up subconsciously, and Makoto rubs his shoulder gently as he passes through to the kitchen, the layout being open plan and spacious for such a small place, to open the bottle and pour them both a small glass. He’s not a big drinker, and he’d much prefer to stay under the limit to get Haru home safe later.

Haru’s quiet. _Too_ quiet, just sipping at his drink disinterestedly, like he’s sort of forcing it down. Makoto turns on the telly, flicking for something to break the quiet, and then passes the controller off to Haru when he comes up empty. His phone rings from the hallway.

“Hey,” he answers Kisumi.

“Hey,“ he sounds worried, “Rin’s texting me. Haru with you?”

“Yeah, we’re splitting a bottle at mine.”

“Reeeeeally,” Kisumi slurs. “Right… I’ll tell Rin he’ll see him in the morning then.”

“Yeah… I’ll get Haru home before –“ Haru glances over, eyes wide, and Makoto stops, cocking his head.

“Can I stay here?” Haru asks, feeling bold, feeling  _rude_ , but letting his trust in Makoto’s good nature take over.

Makoto nods, returning to him and rubbing his shoulder again. He just feels like it’s the right thing to do. “Sure. I only have the couch…”

Haru shrugs, apparently appeased, and leans his head onto Makoto’s hand on his shoulder. It’s warm, comforting, the exact opposite of the reception he’d get from Rin.

He downs his glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FORMATTING PROBLEMS  
> How do you undo ctrl-M on word....?!?!


	12. Chapter 12

Makoto is on his third small glass while Haru is polishing off the rest of the bottle, red faced, getting clumsy, making Makoto oh-so-glad it’s Friday and they don’t have to be up early. On his way back from the bathroom, he collects a pillow and a blanket, leaving them on the side of the couch, hoping Haru might get the hint but… he doesn’t.

That’s not to say he doesn’t flop down, making himself a little nest, it’s just that he traps Makoto under his legs in the process, and hugs his pillow up to him. He looks so _vulnerable_ Makoto would feel like utter crap to just leave him to work himself into sleep like this, so he stays, and lets his hands go to Haru’s ankles, stroking and rubbing just up his shins, digging just into the calf muscle on the sides enough that Haru can feel it.

“Does it bother you?” Haru suddenly blabs, and even though his eyes are half slitted shut they’re still just so _big_ Makoto can feel him staring.

“Does what bother me?” he asks, calmly, tilting his head.

“That I’m gay,” he grunts.

Makoto squeezes his ankle. “Why would it bother me?”

Haru just shrugs, and apparently that’s a sore spot? He can imagine he must have experienced his share of homophobia… maybe lost friends over it… “Some people don’t like it.”

“I don’t think Kisumi minds…?” Makoto asks, even though he’s more than a million percent sure Haru must _know_ this.

Haru bursts into giggles. Spluttering, drunken giggles. Making his pillow all soggy as he bites down to keep it in check, get that stoic mask back on, but he’s failing. And Makoto suddenly has a question answered.

“Kisumi’s gay too, huh?”

“Straight as a circle,” Haru beams up at him.

Makoto smiles softly. “Does Rin never bother that you two are so… close?”

He fingers the pattern on the couch, tracing it. “Used to… I think he got over it,” and his face relaxes. “Kisi’s Kisi.”

“He told me you two fight a lot… is that why you don’t want to go home?” he feels a bit like he’s prying, but at the same time… he trusts Haru’s still got enough of his faculties, he’s just bubblier, chattier, dare he even say _cute_.

“Money and stuff,” Haru shrugs. “Work…” sits up, scoots over, legs hooked over Makoto and puts both hands on his shoulder, leaning his chin on them. “Doesn’t _approve_ ,” he growls.

Makoto brings his arm around his back, just a little comforting squeeze. “You don’t have to talk about it,” because Haru’s gotten upset now, retreating back into himself.

“Doesn’t matter… Gou’s a bad influence.”

Makoto snorts now, and brings his other hand up to tousle Haru’s hair. “She can be pretty demanding…”

“Well you would know.”

“Hey!” he squeezes him again, rougher this time. Haru yawns. Makoto seizes his opportunity. “Come on. It’s been a long week, yeah? Sleep this off for a bit… something tells me you’re not much of a drinker.”

“Hn,” Haru nods, but goes limp against Makoto, apparently preferring to be manhandled onto his back, and Makoto is a gentle as he can be, tucking the pillow under his head and splaying the blanket out over him, making sure his feet are covered.

“I’ll leave my door open.”

 

Haru doesn’t know _why_ Makoto would leave his door open, but he appreciates it a few hours later when he’s waking up with the shaking beginnings of his pathetic excuse for a hangover, and scoops up his blanket to mindlessly make his way into the room, seeking out comfort, seeking out just plain _company_ in his sleepy, still a bit drunk, not exactly coherent state.

And here, he has it, as he wraps up in the blanket and slides under the duvet next to Makoto, who’s lying on his back. Haru makes use of one of those bulky shoulders as a pillow and snuggles in. If he’d let Makoto take him home, he’d be on the bad end of a hasty makeup kiss and trying to get comfortable in the cold, empty expanse of their bedroom, no Rin for _hours_.

And he _hates_ that.

 

Makoto wakes up with the sun, a bright, beautiful early spring day, and squeezes instinctively around the body next to him.

…

Body next to him?

“Haru?” he mumbles, blinking his eyes open, and _oh_.

 _Right_.

So Haru’s next to him… what exactly is he supposed to do about this?

Nothing, he decides, squeezing around him again and shifting Haru’s head onto his chest just a little bit, giving his arm more blood flow. It’s probably not appropriate, but he also decides he doesn’t care, when he brings his other arm up and around him. Hopefully Haru decides to have the same amount of patience for his affection as he does with Kisumi’s.

 

The next time he wakes up, Haru is gone from his side, and he hears the bath running and knows right where Haru will be. He pads quietly into the bathroom, Haru already sitting in just a puddle in the bottom of the tub.

“Sleep well?” he asks, stroking one hand through Haru’s hair as he passes him to make it to the toilet to sit down on the closed lid.

“Hn,” Haru agrees, looking hard at the wall of the tub, anywhere but Makoto.

“Feeling better?”

Haru grunts. Makoto translates it as “hungover.” He’s not surprised.

It’s not late in the morning, barely nine, so Makoto’s pretty impressed he’s managed to get up at all. He even looks well rested, and so much calmer than last night. “What time does Rin usually get in?”

“Sixish,” Haru mutters, looking away again.

“You spend the morning together, right?”

A nod.

“Don’t wanna keep him waiting any longer, hmm? I bet he misses you.”

Haru’s not so sure. In fact, Haru’s pretty sure he’s going to face a weekend of harsh stares and rough sex. And still have to sleep alone after all of that.

Makoto leaves him to his bath, going to get dressed and pulls out some clothes for Haru, who tiptoes into the room in a towel half an hour later.

“Shrunk this in the wash a while ago,” he explains, handing Haru the tshirt and some boxers. “I didn’t have the heart to throw it out… it was my favourite. You might as well keep it.”

It’s green. Haru never wears green, with a cat on the front, wearing glasses, peeking over a wall, everything that _screams_ “dork”, Makoto’s soft, tender side just embodied in one image. He pulls it on, and it’s warm and soft and smells sort of woodsy… herbal… like Makoto.

Haru insists on making them breakfast, nudging Makoto away from the frying pan and rescuing the eggs before he does god knows what to them with whatever was in that little sprinkler he was aiming for. Haru is also sorely disappointed at the lack of fish in Makoto’s fridge.

“You know,” Makoto starts, tucking in. “Does Rin have any room to talk? About your choice in career?”

Haru blinks at him.

“I mean… he does… _that_ …”

“What’s wrong with it?” and even though Haru’s scowling, Makoto smiles. He’s so protective.

“Well it’s just… ah… erm… what is it he does again?”

Haru narrows his eyebrows. “He’s a police officer.”

 _No shit._ “Dammit, Kisumi,” Makoto mutters, face heating.

“What about Kisumi?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he has his hands up, batting away the conversation. Haru persues it.

“What did Kisumi say?”

Makoto sighs. He can’t _lie_ , and Haru’s glare just has him _pinned_. “He told me _itwashisstripperoutfit_.”

Haru’s eyebrows shoot to the ceiling. “Come again?”

“Kisumi told me he was a stripper… when he came into the shop in his uniform and… god, I’m sorry, Haru…”

And then, the most miraculous thing begins to happen. Haru’s eyes widen and his mouth hangs open, and the most glorious sound erupt from him.

Haru is _laughing._

Really, really laughing. So hard he almost chokes on a bit of yolk, so hard his eyes are streaming and his hands have balled up and he’s just _vibrating_ with hilarity. Makoto sits back, feeling a little bit _smug_ that he’s managed to cause this reaction, even if it was unintentional.

 

“I’m sure he only fusses because he loves you,” Makoto tries to soothe.

They’re parked outside Haru’s house now, having coaxed him into the car when he was still recovering from his laughter.

“Hn,” Haru acknowledges, looking warily at the dark windows.

“You think he’s in bed?” Makoto wonders, and thinks it’s likely, if Haru’s not there to hang out with. Haru nods. “Go on… give the poor guy a cuddle. I bet he misses you.”

A little light turns on in Haru’s eyes. “I miss him too…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I tag this as "angst" yet?  
> Is it angst?  
> What is angst?  
> I have no idea what I'm doing it's 1am I love you goodnight.


	13. Chapter 13

Haru closes the door quietly, ears alert for any sounds of movement. There’s no one downstairs, so he creeps up, skips the squeaky step, and peaks into their bedroom. Empty.

 _Huh_.

But their bathroom door is closed. Their bathroom door is _never_ closed. He ghosts across the room and gently turns the knob on the door. He can just see Rin’s elbow poking out over the side of the bath and smiles, coming closer. The bath faces away from the door, so he crouches just an inch behind and brushes his fingers down the top of Rin’s arm.

Rin grunts.

“Hey,” he says, quiet, cups his had around Rin’ bicep. “I’m home.”

“Obviously,” Rin snips, tugging his arm away. “Get in, then. But let me guess, you’ve already _had_ a bath this morning, right?”

Haru chooses not to confirm, slipping Makoto’s soft shirt over his head and dropping his jeans. The large boxers fall of their own accord, and Rin sees them from the corner of his eye. Haru moves to sit across from him, get a look at his face hidden under his mop of hair, but Rin grabs him to spin him around, sloshing water over the side as he pulls him back flush to his chest.

“You smell weird,” he hisses, nose in his neck.

Haru leans his head back against his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever expression he’s wearing. He appreciates the cuddle, but it feels too tight, too desperate.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. It’s probably from wearing that top of Makoto’s more than anything, because it turns out they use the same anti-perspirant. He feels teeth nip into his collarbone. “Why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not,” Rin lies, and licks the small hicky he’s left, then goes to make another one. Marking his territory.

“The film was crap anyway.”

“Good thing you didn’t let _me_ take you then… We’ve not had a date night in weeks.”

Haru feels like telling him they’ve not had a date night since Gou moved in, because Rin wants to bring her too, and Haru doesn’t consider that a date night. “It’ll be easier when it’s just us again,” he mumbles.

It’s not that he doesn’t _like_ , Gou. She’s a nice girl, after a good sleep, a good feed, and while she’s being entertained. Other than that she’s just _annoying_ , always after Rin’s attention, sitting between them on the couch, shoving him out of the kitchen… all that time in _his_ bath, as the family bathroom only has a shower. He could go on, but he won’t.

“We could go out for breakfast?” Haru suggests after too many moments of painful silence and a dozen more little marks sucked onto his skin.

“I’m tired, Haru.”

“Maybe we should go to bed, then?” Haru turns to nose into his cheek affectionately, puffs his lips out a bit to reach to leave a little kiss.

Rin just lets out a long sigh and drops his hold around him. “I’m not really in the mood… I’m just going to sleep.”

 _Oh_.

“Right… I’ll go out, then,” Haru mutters. “Should probably make sure Kisi’s functional anyway… you know how he’s shit with beer,” he tries to laugh it off. 

“Kisumi was _fine_ when I rang him last night,” Rin grips him again, Haru can feel his anger building.

“Oh… you didn’t have to… I texted you.”

“Yeah. And then you shut your phone off so I couldn’t fucking call you. What if something _happened, Haru?!”_ he shakes him.

Haru rolls his eyes and forces Rin’s arms away, turning onto his knees between Rin’s legs. “I was in the cinema,” Rin scowls at the water, avoiding hi gaze completely. “ _Look_ at me, Rin.”

He does. And his face is as sour as anything Haru’s ever seen.

“I love you,” he whispers, pleading, _anything_. He waits anxiously for a reply, for reciprocation.

Rin sighs and finds his hands. “You know I love you. I love you so much it hurts.”

 

Haru doesn’t bother going to Kisumi’s when he tucks Rin into bed with a tender, worried kiss to the back of his head. He heads straight to the pool, lapping away his frustration. Rin’s just such an emotional tornado. He’s intense enough for the both of them, with every little thing. He’s so exhausting. Even trying to _cuddle_ with him is tiring enough. He can’t just lie there and enjoy it, there’s always little licks, little nudges, little kisses, demands for constant attention. As someone who hates sleeping alone, sleeping with Rin isn’t much better. Stealing the blankets, drooling on the pillow, talking, shuffling, humping against his ass when he gets bored. Yet Haru finds him so addictive, because _he’s_ certainly never bored with Rin around.

Rin in sitting up in bed, frowning at the news on the telly when Haru gets in, less worried this time, because at least it didn’t end with a shouting match when he came home this morning. He scoots onto the bed, works his way under Rin’s disinterested arm to lean against his chest.

“Clingy,” Rin huffs.

“Missed you,” Haru shrugs.

“Should’ve been here this morning, then. We could have cuddled all day.”

Haru sighs. He’d been far too hopeful in just thinking it would blow over. He doesn’t want to deal with this. “It was one night. I’m allowed to hang out with my friends, Rin.”

“What about _me_ , Haru?!”

“I let you wake me up at six every morning and suck your dick and make you breakfast. It’s just your _hours_ , Rin. Why can’t I spend time with Makoto and Kisumi when you’re working?”

“Well maybe if you were actually doing something fucking _productive_ instead of doodling and selling fairy cakes to your best friend, you’d feel a bit worse about leaving me to come home to an empty bed.”

“Because I don’t have an empty bed every fucking night. Sure, Rin. Whatever.”

He moves off, and Rin’s does a complete one-eighty, clinging onto him now, panic all over his face. “No, Haru. Don’t. I’m sorry. Haru… _Haru_ ,” he’s begging, trying to take his face in his hands and kiss him, tears spilling from his eyes.

“I’m going to Kisumi’s,” Haru declares, pausing just for a second to wipe at Rin’s cheeks. He doesn’t _want_ to leave him like this, he just can’t deal with him like this. “And you know what? I might even spend the night. With my friend. Because _I can_.”

 

Haru flies through the backdoor of Kisumi’s café, barely calling out that he’s going upstairs. He can’t even face walking past his customers, and takes the stairs two at a time and pushes into the flat with a huff, finally catching his breath. He ignores the couch and the bathroom, slinking his way under Kisumi’s sheets. He’s exhausted, and that’s just ridiculous with how well he slept last night with Makoto, all warm and soft and safe and _there_.

He hears someone creak open the door, probably peering in to check on him, probably Makoto, but they back out again. He naps. Kisumi wakes him up after closing with a heavy thud as he sits down on his back.

“Up you get,” he demands.

“And what if I want to stay here?” Haru mutters, shuffling over so Kisumi gets the hint to get off and lie down next to him, which he does. He’s got him trained.

“You don’t, though,” Kisumi runs his hand through Haru’s hair, letting him snuggle in. “You want to go home and get your ass pounded. Come on. Let me drive you.”

“Kisi…”

“No, Haru. Come on. You two need to sort this out. I hate seeing you like this… you’re always upset these days.”

 

Rin waits anxiously on the steps, waiting for the front door to open.

Haru _has_ to come home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write arguments help me please.


	14. Chapter 14

And he does. Rin bursts into tears as soon as Haru steps in, and they spend a moment just staring at each other before they meet in the middle, moving into each other’s arms. Haru rocks Rin gently, guides him back to the stairs to sit down before his trembling legs give up while he just blubbers. Haru has, unfortunately, come to expect this, and carefully strokes his hair until Rin is just heaving dry sobs, and then takes his face in his hands to clean him up with strokes of his thumbs over his cheeks and little kisses under his eyes.

“Idiot,” he mumbles, prompting another set of tears. “Alright, alright. Come on… have you had dinner?”

Rin shakes his head, buried right into Haru’s neck now, soaking his shoulder, desperately clinging on to as much of him as he can grab.

“Calm down,” he soothes. “You knew I’d come home.”

Because Kisumi was right. Kisumi knows his thoughts better than he does, and knows damn right Haru can’t stand another night away from him, another night of this awful tension with his Rin. He kisses his soggy cheeks some more.

“I defrosted some pork yesterday. Want me to make it? I’ve still got some of that apple stuffing in the fridge too.”

Rin nods. He doesn’t dare speak. All he’ll do is cry more. “I love you,” he squeaks out, mostly muffled by Haru’s neck. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you… honestly,” Haru sighs, “what did you think was going to happen?”

He lets Haru drag him to his feet and move into the kitchen, hoisting himself onto one of the counters to watch Haru cook. He stews over his swirling thoughts while Haru gets the meat out and starts dicing it up with some vegetables, and puts potatoes on to boil.

“You just got really close really fast… I just… worried,” he decides not to say that he’s _still_ worried.

Haru drops his knife on the counter. “Rin… do you think I’m cheating on you?” he doesn’t turn to him, doesn’t see the shaky pause before Rin slowly shakes his head. “Rin?”

“I just… I don’t know.”

“I’m _not_. Even if I was a _little_ bit inclined to, you’d think I’d pick someone who’s actually gay,” Haru brings his knife down on the end of a carrot, sending the end flying across the kitchen. “For fuck’s sake...”

Silence falls. There’s just angry sizzling as Haru cooks. Rin swings his legs, occasionally knocking the cupboard below him, making an irritating thudding noise. Haru turns around to tell him off, but Rin cuts in first.

“What if he wasn’t straight?” he mutters.

Haru stops dead in his tracks.

It’s not like he _hasn’t_ thought about it.

“Kisumi’d be all over that,” he grunts, turning away again.

There’s another few moments of painful silence, before Rin slides down from the counter and wraps his arms around Haru from behind. He kisses the hickeys he left earlier.

“Sorry… love you.”

“Yeah… I know.”

 

They have sex until the early hours, Haru dragging out his first time topping in months as long as he can, making Rin fall to pieces over and over again. Their habit of make-up sex is probably unhealthy, but they settle down contentedly, Haru lying face down, sprawled over Rin, making marks of his own on his chest while Rin plays with his hair, stroking and soothing, it’s both Haru’s favourite after-sex comfort and just comfort over-all, and he can feel how sorry Rin is with how he just keeps going.

“At least I know why you don’t like him now,” Haru muses, circling the marks he’s made with his finger, tickling just a little bit.

Rin says nothing, just tightens the arm he has around his back.

“Come on. Shower. Before you leak,” Haru kisses him quickly on the lips, and licks up to each corner to force him to smile.

“Ew, you’re gross,” Rin giggles, _finally_ , he’s usually so _incessant_ with his sing-song little laugh, and pulls his hand from Haru’s hair to wipe his mouth. “The sheets need a wash anyway.”

“ _Rin_ ,” Haru tickles him now, because _he’s_ the one being gross here. “Come on. Wash my hair for me.”

“Yeah, alright. I suppose you want me to shave your legs for you too?”

Well if he’s _offering_. Haru shrugs, smiling down at him.

 

Rin scoops Haru – naked, still a bit damp – up bridal style and tosses him onto the bed after their quick, mostly innocent clean up.

“You owe me cuddles,” Haru pouts, nuzzling into the side of Rin’s pillow, taking up an almost unfair amount of space in the middle of the bed.

“At least you get to sleep in a bed tonight,” Rin kisses him, but Haru freezes momentarily. “What… Haru…”

“Hmm?” he recovers. “No… no, Rin, I napped at Kisi’s earlier. Don’t,” he just wants to go to sleep, however restless and annoying Rin can be.

Rin wraps him up. Haru’s hiding his face, probably on purpose. He gives so much away with his eyes. “Right… love you.”

“Love you.”


	15. Chapter 15

Kisumi watches Haru carefully when he comes into the shop, laden with cakes to make up for their absence over the weekend, and is surprised to see Rin following close behind, hand slipped into Haru’s back pocket and another box under his arm. Haru looks relaxed, and he’s pleased to note the _Rin_ is the one with the slight hitch in his step. Makoto has earphones in, having almost regretfully told Kisumi he needed to get some work done this afternoon.

Haru sets his boxes on the counter, accepts Kisumi’s silent, _appreciative_ kiss on the cheek with barely a grumble, and then pokes his friend in the shoulder.

He turns to them, smiling, smiling even more when he sees just how _happy_ Haru looks with Rin’s arms sliding around him. He’s not really known a gay couple before, but he’s done the exact same thing with girlfriends a thousand times, just for that same expression on their face. They’re just _adorable_ together.

“Hey,” Makoto greets, and Haru’s eyes slide over to Rin, who’s already shooting a look back at his boyfriend of just pure exasperated endearment.

“Thanks,” Rin mumbles, finally looking away from Haru and down to Makoto. “For looking after this guy for me. I’m… sorry about all that,” he slides his chin onto Haru’s shoulder, hugging him awkwardly, but there’s something just a little bit off.

“Don’t mention it,” Makoto tries to sound comforting, and glances at Kisumi for some kind of back up.

He’s looking at Haru, and Haru’s looking back, watching each other so _carefully_ , and now Rin’s awkward mood suddenly makes sense.

Those two are just so _close_.

“I’m gonna go and have a nap before work… so I’ll see you all later,” Rin’s bumbling his excuses. “I love you.”

Haru turns and accepts his tender kiss, and Rin looks satisfied with the open display of affection, even looking smug. He leaves with a wave and Haru disappears to the counter for a moment, but returns with a blueberry muffin, sliding it across the table towards Makoto.

“Here.”

“Thanks, Haru.”

It’s a thanks and an apology all in one, and Makoto reaches out to rub his shoulder. He looks so _bothered_ by something now that Rin’s gone.

 

They both angle themselves towards the counter, arms brushing just a little, but the contact is warm and pleasant, the kind that just makes you feel _not alone_ , and Makoto wants to get closer, even. Haru’s just such a quiet air of confidence, and it’s weirdly comforting to Makoto.

“I’m taking my class swimming on Wednesday,” he says quietly. “Will you be on duty?” Haru’s lifeguarding hours are so spontaneous, he’s only seen him working a handful of times.

“We’ll see.”

Makoto gets the feeling Haru _will_ be on duty, even if he’s not already signed up for it. Just the way his eyes sparkle a bit and he smiles. He can’t wait to see him swim again.

And maybe there’s a part of him that can’t wait to see him in that bright red legskin and skin tight yellow tank he wears for his life guarding uniform. He feels his ears glow.

 

He and Haru stick around to help out at closing, lifting chairs onto the tables to Kisumi can whip around with the mop. He’s currently teaching young Ai how to clean the coffee maker, and they’re watching with fond amusement. He’s not the _best_ teacher. Haru sighs in their direction, a noise that Makoto reads as nothing but exasperated endearment, and there’s an oddly wistful look too Haru as he heads over to them.

“Move,” he tells Kisumi, who moves about an inch, leaving Haru to squeeze in between them, sliding right up against Kisumi so he’s not too close to Ai.

Makoto can see Kisumi’s hands creeping around to hold Haru’s waist while he does a much better demonstration for Ai, ignoring Kisumi entirely.

“I’ll finish up in here if you start the dishes, Ai?” Kisumi suggests, and Makoto can see the teen’s wide eyed look as Kisumi still hasn’t let go of Haru. With him gone, Kisumi gets even closer, and Makoto can barely hear his whispers. “Are you alright? You’ve not spoken to me about… all _that_ yet.”

Haru just nods.

“What did he say?” Kisumi turns him around a bit, sliding his arms even tighter around him, rubbing his thumbs in the small of his back, and Haru looks _pained_.

“I’ll tell you later,” he mumbles, and turns his head to the side to lean on Kisumi’s chest, looking over at Makoto.

Kisumi’s looking his way too, head tilted on top of Haru’s as they share a silent hug. He mouths something into his hair. It looks a lot like an ‘I love you’.

 

“Do you have plans this weekend?” he asks, breaking the silence and making Haru pull away from Kisumi’s hug.

He shrugs. “I think Rin is working…” and then goes silent, suddenly upset and uncomfortable again.

“Are you ok? You’ve been so quiet today… is everything better with him?”

“I’m always quiet,” Haru just grunts, and Makoto nudges his shoulder for his cheek. “Sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry…”

“I just don’t want you to worry…”

Makoto frowns. “Is there something I should worry about?”

Haru shakes his head and turns away, looking back to Kisumi, who’s smiling softly. He’s hardly moved since Haru came back over, watching them.

Haru’s lips twitch in a smile when Makoto squeezes his shoulder, accepting his quiet response so much better than Rin ever does. He never gets angry like Rin does when he can’t express his feelings properly, and he appreciates that. Even Kisumi can become overbearing.

Makoto gets back to his original intention. “We should go out… I want to take a run to the pet shop if you want to come? Get some new buddies for my aquarium.”

Kisumi’s the first one to answer. “You are sooooo going to regret that!”

Haru shoots him a stare. “I’d love to come.”

“Totally telling Rin on you,” Kisumi teases, hugging Haru from behind again, and even though Haru knows he’s teasing because of his… uh… certain _habit_ when it comes to tanks of water, he just wants him to shut _up_.

He’s torn between just letting Kisumi treat it like any casual day out or just hiding it, and even though he hates it, lying is feeling like the safer option right now.

Makoto raises his eyebrow. Just look at them. They’re hugging _again_ like it’s the most natural thing tin the world.

“Have you ever wondered why he’s always wearing his swimsuit?” Kisumi asks, and snaps at Haru’s waist band with such _confidence_.

“I’m leaving,” Haru grunts, and Kisumi lets him slide out of his grip, but it’s Makoto who grabs his wrist.

“Don’t be like that,” he tries to sooth, worried again, because something’s just changed in Haru and he doesn’t understand. Even Kisumi stops giggling to hook him back into another hug.

“Calm down, I’m teasing… Makoto can learn what an ass you are the hard way,” Makoto can’t hear what he whispers, and turns away to let them have whatever _privacy_ they may need. He doesn’t like it. There’s something definitely _weird_ between the two of them, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Rin really _wasn’t_ over worrying about it like Haru had said.

“What’s wrong, Haru. Tell me,” Kisumi demands, so quiet as he tries to sway them in a soothing motion, hand curling into his hair to stroke.

Haru sighs into him, just taking a second of comfort before he gets on his toes to whisper in his ear.

“Rin thinks I’m cheating… with Makoto…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of hate this chapter.   
> I was trying to have Makoto really observe Haru and Kisi's interactions and write them in his thoughts, but it's weird, because really trying to get everyone's thoughts out in this style of POV.   
> Basically Makoto is suspicious of Haru and Kisi, in case no one can understand that.   
> I'll work on this again later >.


	16. Chapter 16

Haru’s sulking over at his seat in the window. Makoto and Kisumi take it in turns to wander over, making excuses with bringing him drinks or just wanting to peek at his sketch. Apparently he’s irritated at Kisumi, given that he shrugs out of his worried hug, but allows Makoto’s hair ruffle. They go back to just letting him chill by himself, Kisumi promising that he’ll talk to one of them if he needs to. They don’t need to say that it’s probably something to do with Rin.

“How’s Hayato doing, then?” Kisumi asks, still looking a bit worriedly towards Haru. He’s going to take him some more tea in a minute if he doesn’t stop scowling at the lamppost outside.

“He’s a little shy, doesn’t really speak much in class. Cute kid though, got some little friendships going,” Makoto smiles and nods, pleased to say he’s not seen the nervous little boy cry even once since the first day, which was just an outburst of anxiety.

“Takes after his big brother!” Kisumi beams.

Makoto snorts. “Are you calling yourself shy or cute? Because both of those would be a lie.”

There’s a little huff of a laugh from Haru, and they both smile at him. He’s fine.

 

He’s even finer when the door chimes, letting in a pair of burley officers sandwiching a comparatively scrawny looking Rin, who surprises absolutely no one by skipping over to drape himself over Haru’s shoulders, kissing his cheek.

“You’re working,” Haru grunts in greeting, flipping his book closed.

“Covering a sick day,” he grins. “I get off at midnight,” he slides into the seat next to him and pulls him close by the waist, nestling into his shoulder. “Just popping in before patrol.”

“I’ll wait up,” Haru whispers, and leans his head into Rin.

“Good.”

 

Kisumi whistles over at them. “Oi, coffee.”

“Doesn’t a man in uniform get table service around here?”

“Yeah, if you come over here. The walk over there is too much effort,” Kisumi teases, and Rin flashes his teeth, but hauls Haru over to Makoto’s table by the counter anyway, where Kisumi has set all of their drinks.

Rin secures Haru into his lap, pleased with just how _comfortable_ Haru is with the public affection. Especially in front of Makoto. “This is Sousuke Yamazaki and Seijurou Mikoshiba,” he tells them. “And this is Haru, Kisumi, and Makoto.”

“The Haru he never shuts up about,” Seijurou winks.

“Yeah, well. Look at him. Would you, if you had such a beautiful boy?” Rin gloats, kissing Haru’s cheek again.

Rin’s doing it on purpose, Haru knows it, being purposefully _obnoxious_ with all this, just because Makoto’s here. He wants some kind of embarrassed reaction, or rather _doesn’t_ want, because he’ll decide that that means Haru’s cheating. So what can he do but lean his cheek into his temple and just _deal with it?_

“Are you not tired, Rin?” Makoto asks, such a mothering concern in his voice.

“Oh, nah. Spent all morning cuddling this thing,” and he smiles, so fake, his eyes so harsh Kisumi has to walk away.

Makoto smiles so genuinely in return it hurts. “Ah. Hayato missed him at swimming this morning…”

“Sorry,” Haru mumbles, mostly into Rin’s hair but looking at Makoto.

And Kisumi’s had enough, striding back in with Ai under his arm and making the introductions.

“You wouldn’t be Momo’s brother, would you? Mikoshiba?”

Haru’s so thankful the two loudmouths burst into conversation with that, silencing any more awkward little passes between Rin and Makoto. He settles more into the rare afternoon cuddle, enjoying Rin’s hand finally coming up into his hair to roll his head into his shoulder and neck, tucking him down with a much more honest, comforting love. Rin even kisses him into a smile he can’t even shake when they’ve left.

“You two are so cute together,” Makoto coos.

Haru burries his face into his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've still not mastered this whole angst thing. This is my only proper "angst" fic, and it's not even that angsty?? I'm trying. That's why some of these really serious chapters are so short. Apologies.   
> daxii on tumblr  
> please love me


	17. Chapter 17

Haru spends half his evening at Kisumi’s – they get pizza and watch Free Willy – and the other half pottering around at home. Gou is (conveniently) staying at a friend’s, so he has the house to himself to make Rin a nice, light, late night supper, and pretty up their bedroom a bit. Fresh sheets and a sakura candle burning away on the window-ledge are so reminiscent of their early days (trying to air out shared dorm rooms) that he might just make Rin cry.

Rin gets in tired and clingy, shuffling into the lounge and slinking into Haru’s lap.

“Long day?” he asks him, helping to peel him out of his thick jacket, and then starts on his belt.

“Just not used to it… not as busy at night,” Rin mumbles, resting the side of his cheek on Haru’s shoulder, letting him take care of him.

Belt piled on top of the coat, Haru teases the top button of Rin’s shirt, waiting for him to lift his chin up just a touch for easier access. He’s not stripping him for sex, just to help him get comfortable and relax.

“I made sushi for your supper,” he has his shirt off now, Rin wearing just a tank and his trousers, which he gets to work on next. “Do you want a bath?”

“Just shower with me?” Rin suggests, kneeling up to let Haru push his trousers down, and easing each knee up for them to fall from his legs.

He sits back down, straddling Haru, nuzzling right up into his neck. He kisses the skin touching his lips in little tickling pecks, then slowly kisses his way up Haru’s throat and down his jaw, till he reaches his chin.

“Hi,” Haru deadpans, fingers just ghosting on Rin’s hips.

Rin cracks, breaking out into a grin and giving Haru a long kiss. “You’re such a dork. I love you.”

Haru smiles. “I love you too. Now go for a shower, you’re gross.”

 

They reconvene in their bedroom, Haru having brought the sushi in on petal shaped party plates they had left over from their anniversary picnic for a similar meal on their bed. Haru’s mostly full, but feeds Rin to his heart’s content, with his damp hair splayed all over his lap. He’s happy. A little more energised and ready for some food and his fill of Haru, who hasn’t been _this_ tender and romantic probably this _year_.

“I have a shift at the pool in the morning,” Haru says softly, stroking Rin’s hair. Rin looks up, a picture of disappointment – but it’s alright. “But I’m all yours now, and I’ll be home at lunch.”

Rin sighs, it’s not _perfect_ , but it’s all he should have expected, realistically. They’re still getting all this happy time alone, so who’s he to complain? It’s his turn to start taking Haru’s clothes off. “I’m working midnight-to-nine tomorrow, so I guess that works out pretty well, hmm?”

“So I have to be gentle with you, then?” Haru leans down to kiss Rin, and then they move so they’re kneeling facing each other.

Rin’s towel flies back to the bathroom and Haru’s clothes are flung to the floor with the empty plates as their hungry kisses begin, but Haru doesn’t waste too much time getting Rin flat on his back and ducking down between his legs to work him open with his mouth.

Haru keeps his promise to be gentle, kissing and pampering until Rin is just whimpering under him, and sucks him down before he’s even gotten inside. Rin pants for a moment while Haru settles on top of him, cock prodding at his receptive ass, and waits till Rin is kissing him again before he ventures forwards.

It’s two in the morning before they’re ready for bed, and Haru’s _probably_ going to regret this when he’s starting his shift at eight, but for now they’re both fucked out and it’s more than worth it, being able to snuggle comfortably into Rin’s chest, smothered in each other’s limbs.

 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning,” Makoto says, honestly just as surprised to see Haru slinking into the café just after the after-work rush. It’s probably a rude greeting, but Haru doesn’t seem phased.

Kisumi, on the other hand, comes marching out of the kitchen, side stepping Ai, and looks him up and down. Haru freezes at the door.

“Just gonna stand there?” Kisumi asks, aiming for threatening but his face can’t hide his smirk.

Haru narrows his eyes, and starts a tentative tiptoe towards his chair next to Makoto. Kisumi smirks more. He makes a point of sitting down without letting anything show on his face. Apparently satisfied, Kisumi turns to the drinks maker to get him some tea, and it’s only then that Haru releases his hissed wince.

But Kisumi has super-hearing.

“I thought you’d be with Rin,” Makoto continues, deciding to ignore the strange little stand-off they’ve just had, but catches the last dregs of pain on Haru’s face. “Is something wrong? Did you hurt yourself?”

“Uh… no. I’m fine,” Haru tries to reassure him. “I was with Rin this afternoon… he’s gone to bed now.”

Kisumi’s chucking. Makoto’s confused and Haru is _glaring_ at his back.

“Please tell me you can put two and two together, Mako…” Kisumi whines.

Makoto looks back to Haru far more scrutinising, and it’s like a slow motion picture with how the realisation dawns on his face.

“Oh… _oh… **oh!**_ ” his cheeks and ears burn red and Haru just chooses to hide his face down in his arms.

Kisumi delivers his drink, sliding his hand into Haru’s hair and squeezing around his shoulders. “Sorry, you two had a nice time, huh?”

Haru just nods where he hides, and Kisumi nudges in to kiss his cheek. He’s glad. He’s not seen Haru walking like _that_ in months.

“Makoto, give me your hand?” he asks, and though he’s confused, Makoto stretches his arm out. Kisumi takes it and settles it on Haru’s head. “He _loves_ having his hair played with. Makes him all dopey.”

“Do I even want to know how you know?” Makoto doesn’t mean to click his tongue, but these two are getting ridiculous now.

“We dated for a while,” Kisumi smiles, ducking down to Haru’s other cheek.

“A _short_ while,” Haru grunts, and Makoto can’t quite understand it. He’s so open to Kisumi’s affection, but seems so _resentful_ at the same time.

“Apparently I have fonder memories than he does. It was six months, Haru-chan.”

Haru just grunts, but he’s sitting up now, the smallest of fond smiles pointed towards Kisumi. If it’s an act… and Makoto doesn’t _want_ it all to be an act, then they’re losing their touch. He can’t understand their relationship at _all_ , and no matter what Haru said about Rin accepting their friendship, he must feel something about it.

 

It’s just minutes to closing when someone comes in, and Kisumi’s initial reaction is to frown at them, but he recognises Rin’s officer friend from the other day – probably stopping in mid-patrol. The shop is deserted except for Makoto and Haru. Haru’s playing a game on Makoto’s tablet, leaning towards him to still have his hair played with. They almost look like a couple.

Sousuke orders an expresso to go with an apology – Rin had said he wouldn’t mind – and Kisumi just shrugs it off. Waiting for his drink, he looks over at Rin’s boyfriend. He’s heard about him since he and Rin started having a few hours working together at night during the shift change-overs, but Rin always makes out that he’s not that affectionate – a thing he’s even complained about.

He certainly looks pretty affectionate _now_.


	18. Chapter 18

Haru gets a lift home with Makoto, and not spending twenty minutes hanging out with Kisumi and then waiting for the bus (because like hell he’s walking home when he wants his dinner and a nap) gets him home an hour earlier than Rin is expecting, and he’s able to slide into the bedroom and strip off, then peel back the covers to show Rin lying just as naked, flat out on his stomach. Rin is still sleeping when Haru straddles his ass, but the hands rubbing up and down his back wake him up.

Rin looks back over his shoulder as Haru comes down to lie on top of him, greeting him with a kiss. Rin is lazy with it at first, but is soon trying to shuffle onto his back to kiss Haru more intensely.

“Hello,” Rin pecks his lips again, easing Haru off of him and onto his side, tucking him up under his arm.

“Hey, sleepy.”

“You know I have work in a couple of hours, right?”

“Mm,” Haru nods against him, folding his arm over Rin’s waist and lacing their legs together. “Go back to sleep, I’m just here to nap.”

Rin chuckles into his hair. “Late nights and early starts, babe. Why am I not surprised?”

“I can handle _that_ just fine,” Haru squeezes him. “It’s _you_ who wears me out.”

“You love it. I love you.”

“Mm,” they shift into another kiss. “Love you too.”

They sleep, getting up together for Rin to have a late-night breakfast and Haru to have supper. Rin scoops Haru up from the table after taking their plates to the kitchen, carrying him back upstairs, and Haru just allows it, holding around his neck and resting his head against his chest. Rin gets him tucked into bed and heads off for a shower and to dress for work.

Haru’s asleep when he’s ready, all tucked in and _smiling_ all by himself. It sort of makes Rin want to take a sick day just to get back in and hold him some more, but alas, duty calls.

 

At least Sousuke’s brought donuts.

“You are a _god_ , my friend,” he swoons, licking sugar from his lips and jovially hooking his arm around the back of Sou’s shoulders.

“You’ve been here a _minute_. When was the last time you ate?” Sousuke narrows his eyebrows.

Rin flops into his own chair, arms thrown above his head. “Well well, my gorgeous boy just made me steak, actually. But we’re not so big on desserts… nice to have a treat sometime.”

Seijurou splutters from around the corner in the hallway. “Yeah, right. I’m sure that’s not _all_ your “boy”’s been feeding you today.”

Rin’s grin gives it all away immediately, and Sei can only laugh.

Sousuke, however, is frowning.

“Oh, what?” Rin huffs, throwing some waste paper at him from a draft write up he just got jam all over. “Like _you_ don’t like having your cock sucked. Don’t get all pretentious on me.”

“I’m not, Rin… it’s… never mind.”

Sei steps further into the room, knocking Sousuke on the shoulder, and if _that_ doesn’t just kill his mood even more he doesn’t know what will.

“Spit it out,” Rin’s giggling at his bad puns. If he _knew_ …

“Later,” Sousuke just grunts. Rin sends him a glare, turning to Sei instead.

“So I was just telling this killjoy how my Haru was making me steak,” he grins, toothy and ridiculous. “He came home early and everything… he was hanging out in the coffee shop again… and god, he’s just been so _cute_.”

“You were alright with that? There was that… guy you didn’t like much?” Sei interjects.

Rin falters. “I trust Haru… he’s happy, so…,” and shrugs, and needs to kick himself back into gear again. “He does this thing where he gets all tucked in and just wants his hair playing with. He’s like a cat. He’s so _cute_. Just sends him right into this loved up little happy mood…”

“Ok, ok… you’re drooling. Stop.”

“Sorry…” Rin’s not sorry. Not with that smile.

Sousuke’s sorry.

 

He doesn’t _want_ to interfere or be the bearer of bad news… but Rin is his friend, his friend who’s spent the last month or so just in _pieces_ every other day over something Haru’s said or done, or something with this new friend of his that’s just _not right_ … and it’s even more unfair to keep it to himself and let it drag out. Rin will only get hurt worse.

They coincidentally wind up in the cloak room together as Sousuke’s finishing his shift and Rin is getting ready to go out on the beat. It’s now or never, really, or Rin will spend another weekend mostly _alone_ while Haru’s with this other guy, and how much does he not want to have to cheer him up again at midnight on Monday?

“Rin?”

“’Sup, grumpy?” _please, Rin, stop smiling…_ it’s just making it harder.

“I… need to talk to you… about something…”

“Well, what is it? You’ve been weird all day, Sou…”

“It’s… about your boy. And… having his hair played with…”

 

Haru certainly didn’t expect _this_ as a wake-up call….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna leave this here....


	19. Chapter 19

Rin wonders what Haru was thinking, feeling, when he made this same journey yesterday. Sneaking into the house earlier than expected, making his way to their bedroom – but that’s where the similarities end.

He stares at Haru’s sleeping form, curled up on his side, facing the window, the sheet tucked up to his chest, pinned under his arm. His face, that gorgeous face he’s spent so many years kissing, caressing, that little stoic mouth he knows just how to crack into a smile, and he loves him. He loves him so much.

Haru’s eyes crack open as he wakes, just through feeling Rin in the room, and Rin sees his squint go wide from confusion to _fear_. He knows.

“Rin… What’s wrong?” Haru’s sitting up and reaching out a hand. “Rin?”

And that’s when Rin realises Haru’s naked, and knows without a doubt _he_ wasn’t the last one to touch him, or kiss him, or even hug him and stroke his hair. He could yell at him, but he can’t even get mad. He’s just empty.

“I’m done, Haru,” he says, softly, sitting down on the bottom of the bed so he doesn’t have to look at Haru. “No more lies… you should leave. You don’t pay barely a penny for this place anyway.

 

Haru’s trembling, and on instinct he reaches out for his favourite person to hold him, running his fingers down his arm to at least make him turn around or _something_ , _anything_.

“Rin… I love you…”

Rin only flinches away from his touch. “I love you too… I love you _more._ ”

“What _happened_ , _Rin?!_ ” Haru scrabbles forwards, desperate for him. “Why are you _doing this?!_ ”

“Because Sousuke _saw you!_ He _saw you_ with him! All cuddled up with him at Kisi’s! And like it was _nothing!_ ” Rin’s voice grows louder, shaking. He’s going to cry.

They’re _both_ going to cry, and Haru can’t even speak. They’ll work it out. It always works out. He slowly slips into yesterday’s clothes just dumped on the floor. Rin’s glaring hard at the ground when Haru steps in front of him, and grits his teeth as Haru cups his jaw.

“I’ll be at Kisi’s. I love you. Calm down… it’s not what you think,” he kisses his chee.

Rin snarls. “I don’t care, Haru. We’re done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short and sad, but I've never done a break up scene before to know how to flesh it out.


	20. Chapter 20

Haru runs to Kisumi’s. Not a paced, practiced jog, he _runs_.

Because this can’t be happening. This can’t be what he thinks it is.

He fumbles for his key to the shop and slams the door closed again, bounding up the stairs, but the door to Kisumi’s flat is locked with the key in the back of it, so he can’t get in. There’s no other choice but to knock, _bang_ , for his attention. He feels guilty. Kisumi gets up at dawn and even he doesn’t need to be up for another hour yet, but Haru’s becoming more and more desperate.

“What?” Kisumi grunts, squinting and shirtless and staggering as he opens the door, but Haru just barrels through, but slowly stops, somewhere between the end of the couch and the little kitchenette and the bedroom door.

And shit shoulders start to shake.

“Haru?” he feels Kisumi behind him, tentatively reaching out for his arm to coax him around. He can hear the thought in his voice as his brain awakens and gets to work, and then he tugs a little harsher at Haru’s arm to turn him around. “Tell me what happened, Haru,” he whispers.

This is why Haru loves Kisumi. He’s all over him, all the time, playing, teasing, caring for him with everything he can. Haru’s not the biggest for physical contact, but he can always make an exception for Kisumi, because it’s what Kisumi always craves. But now, he lets Haru have his space and gives him the choice. He knows instantly not to try his patience with a hug, and Haru’s so thankful, even as he rips away from those wavering violet eyes and plummets his nose into that chest he knows better than any other.

“Hey,” Kisumi holds him, just gently, “I’m good, but I’m not that good… I can’t read your mind, Haru. And I can’t make it better unless you tell me what’s wrong.”

Haru hiccups. “You can’t make it better anyway…”

“What did he do, Haru?” he’s more forceful now, hugging tighter, and Haru sniffles as a fat tear runs down his cheek.

“He never believed me,” and then he’s gone, crying quietly and softly, and hugs Kisumi back.

 

Kisumi can do literally nothing as Haru crumbles, his world literally falling apart as the realisation sinks in for him that this is it. It’s been _years_ and those words have never been spoken, despite all the petty fights and all of Rin’s insecurities and doubts.

And Kisumi’s not even surprised.

It’s only a few steps to get Haru to the couch, where he latches onto the blanket instead… Haru’s always been so solitary with his sadness, and Kisumi’s just glad he made it here before the shock set in. He gets him water. Haru’s panting and sweating, obviously from running, but Kisumi _knows_ Haru’s stamina, and this isn’t like him at all.

He’s just _broken_.

“What did he say?” Kisumi can’t even stop himself winding a hand around Haru’s shoulder and into his hair as he sits next to him.

Haru takes a few minutes to find words in his throat, but that’s alright. “His friend who came in yesterday… told him I was with Makoto… I don’t know what he said…”

“He was playing with your hair,” Kisumi mumbles, doing the same. And then something else hits him. “It was _my_ fault he was playing with your hair…”

Haru snuffles. He’s calming down, but he’s calming down all wrong, for how Kisumi knows him. He can feel him physically relax and he lets him in for a hug, but he can see it in the way he’s looking absolutely everywhere – he’s withdrawing. Closing in and bottling up, somewhere between disbelief and denial, and Kisumi can’t blame him. 

“I woke you up,” Haru says, very matter-of-fact and emotionless. “You should go to bed.”

“Did Rin wake you up…? You should sleep too, Haru… you can’t deal with this when you’re tired.”

“Hn,” Haru just grunts, but obediently lies down on the couch, like he’s on autopilot, and Kisumi joins him.

It’s wide enough for the both of them and long enough for Haru, but Kisumi’s hanging off everywhere, and curls his knees into the back of Haru’s. He sort of doesn’t dare to hold onto him, so just aims to let Haru feel the warmth of his chest against his back, but then changes his mind when Haru grunts, discontent.

“I’m glad you came here,” is all he can say, not willing to address the actual topic quite yet, not while Haru’s blocking everything out. “I hated it when you used to get upset and go missing…”

“I only went to find a pool.”

“When I get rich, I’ll buy somewhere with a pool, kay? Then you can always come to me.”


	21. Chapter 21

Kisumi extracts himself from around Haru when he hears his alarm going off in the bedroom. He thinks Haru’s only faking his sleep, but chooses not to question it, pulling the blanket to his neck. He kisses the top of his head quickly, and then scampers to his room to shut his phone up and start getting ready. Haru hasn’t moved when he needs to go downstairs, but it’s not like he won’t know where he is.

He’s staring blankly at the telly when Kisumi comes up with some lunch for him right before the rush, but coming back from his bathroom run he finds Haru hasn’t even picked up his plate. He looks like he hasn’t even _seen_ it.

“Hey,” he knocks his shoulders, and Haru twitches, but slowly turns to him. His face is so vacant, just his blank space. “Lunch. You need to eat, kay?”

“Hn.”

Kisumi can’t stay up any longer, and quickly kisses Haru’s cheek with a rub to the back of his neck, and feels Haru watching him as he leaves. He can’t tell what’s going on in that mind of his at all, he’s just a wreck. But Kisumi also know Haru’s one of the strongest people he’ll ever meet, and is pretty sure he can climb out of this ditch.

 

Makoto is confused when he comes into the coffee shop after work. Kisumi looks thoroughly sullen, Ai skating around him like he might blow a fuse, and Haru is nowhere in sight. Kisumi startles when Makoto nudges his shoulder to get him out of his revere.

“Hey,” Makoto cocks his head in concern.

“Ah, hey,” Kisumi’s frowning. Something’s wrong. But before Makoto can even ask what, Kisumi’s unhooking the counter. “I need to talk to you in the back.”

Kisumi paces around the galley kitchen, walking circles and rubbing his neck. He’s so stressed and uncomfortable, and Makoto is starting to get worried.

“Where’s Haru?” he asks, tense, because it’s the only thing he can think of.

Kisumi waves his hand dismissively. “He’s upstairs. Ah… actually –”

“Well is he alright?” Makoto interrupts.

And Kisumi just shakes his head. Makoto has no idea what could be wrong, and why he’s here, why he’s not in hospital or with Rin or –

“Well he’s _fine_ ,” Kisumi insists, and holds Makoto’s wrists, soothing little circles. “Rin broke up with him…”

Makoto blinks. “What?”

“Rin broke up with Haru. This morning… he was at my door before I even got up. I don’t think Rin was even off from work,” Kisumi frowns, so obviously worried, and so _irritated_ too.

“Did he say why?” Makoto’s twitching to go upstairs. He has no idea what he can do or say, but Haru must be ruined.

“Cheating,” Kisumi growls at the ground. “He never fucking believed he _wasn’t cheating!_ ”

With Kisumi still holding his wrists, Makoto feels a squeeze and tries to prise himself away. He doesn’t _want_ to assume… but he really needs to ask at this point. He chooses his words carefully. He doesn’t want to _imply_ but…

“You two _are_ very close…” he muses, acting innocent, but Kisumi is almost laughing, with this wide eyed almost manic glare to his face.

“Not _me, you!_ He thought Haru was cheating with _you!_ ”

 _Oh_.

“But… but I’m not… I haven’t… we haven’t…” he splutters, ears burning, but then Kisumi’s head comes down to his shoulder, and Makoto frees his arms to hug him, just loosely.

“I know… it’s just _Rin_ , he’s an _idiot!_ ”

“Do you want me to check on Haru… does he even want to see me?” Makoto holds on a little tighter, getting upset as well now. This was the _last_ thing he’d ever imagined.

“I don’t know… but could you help Ai out for five minutes while I go up? I haven’t seen him since before lunch.”

Makoto nods and they peel away. He’s just supervising Ai, really, and is annoyed with himself that he’s struggling to get up with any decent small talk to see how he’s doing while Kisumi vanishes.

 

Kisumi feels an odd need to knock on his own bedroom door when he can’t find Haru in the lounge or the bathroom, but he’s just nuzzled up… and still not sleeping. Half his sandwich is still sitting on the plate, cold and probably stale, but it’s _something_.

“Hey,” Kisumi rolls in next to him and feels Haru’s head slide over an inch. He’s not quite close enough to cuddle, but maybe he just doesn’t want that. “Makoto’s down with Ai… how are you doing?”

“Sad.”

“Yeah… come here?” he offers, and Haru nods, scooting over to lie on Kisumi’s chest. “Do you want to talk to him or anything? Do you want me to? Are you… gonna try and make him see sense?”

“He’ll see sense himself,” Haru grunts.

“Well, you can hang out with me until then, alright?”

“I’m done.”

He’s… what?

“I don’t want to deal with that anymore,” Haru continues without prompt.

“But you love him…”

“I do.”

Haru sniffles and shuts up, and Kisumi won’t force him if he doesn’t want. He strokes his back, smoothing out those little sobs. “Do you want to see Makoto?”

“I wouldn’t know what to say…”

Leaving Haru hurts. He looks so small and broken, barely even noticing the light ruffle to his hair Kisumi gives him. He tells Makoto to come up with him later on, and is happy to find Haru back on the couch when they go up.

He’s feeling braver with pampering him with affection, wrapping him up in a blanket, topped off with a kiss on his head. Haru accepts it without any response, but that’s not a bad thing. It means he’s feeling a little less desperate, at least.

But then suddenly the door clicks closed, and Makoto has left.


	22. Chapter 22

Kisumi sees all of Haru’s patience for him evaporate and then completely reload within seconds, just watching his eyes narrow and close and his head curl towards him.

“You know, he said something downstairs,” Kisumi mumbles quietly, and pauses in case Haru needs to tell him to shut up, but he doesn’t. “I think he thinks… or thought… or sees… that it’s _us_ and not you and him that… set Rin off,” it’s a hard thing to word correctly, at least for Kisumi. Even though he knows Haru doesn’t give a damn as long as he can understand it.

“Oh…” Haru slowly opens his eyes, looking down onto Kisumi’s chest, and with an utterly defeated laugh, throws an arm around him and curls in more. “I wonder what gave him _that_ idea?”

“ _Right?!_ It’s not even like he can keep his hands off you either! You’re just too fucking cute.”

Haru sighs, unable to deal with the joking for long, but he’s not mad at Kisumi. “Tell him I’m not mad at him, either way. You’re clingy and Rin’s an idiot. It’s not your fault.”

“And it’s not yours, either,” Kisumi hugs him, his mood shifting along with Haru’s. “Do you want me to make you dinner?”

“I’ll do it,” Haru dismisses him. “You stick to the coffee, kay? And… can I stay?”

“Not even a question. Of course you’re staying. Don’t I still owe you for years of crashing at yours, anyway?” they settle with their heads together on the arm of the couch. “You’re really not going back?”

“I can’t,” Haru says simply.

 

Obviously exhausted, Kisumi ends up leaving Haru to sleep on the couch after dinner, retreating with his laptop to the bedroom so as not to disturb him. As much as he might _like_ to go and scoop him up and strip him down and tuck him in, Haru might just murder him. He’ll get in himself if he wants to. He knows he’s _always_ welcome to instate Kisumi as his human body-pillow-cum-blanket. It’s been a long week, and though Kisumi could do with the cuddle, he’s not pushing Haru any further tonight. Poor guy.

He’s still totally unconscious when Kisumi goes to use the bathroom and wash up before bed, and though he’s been dosing and resting all day, it’s just the emotional exhaustion that’s got him so worn out.

“Love you, Haru,” he kisses his head, secures him a little more in the blanket and even gets him a refill of water before he goes to bed.

 

It’s strangely nostalgic and familiar in the morning when he steps into the bathroom to be met by those big, blue eyes and little nose just poking out above the water in the tub.

“I’m not getting out,” Haru says, matter-of-fact, as he just barely lifts his chin out of the water on Kisumi’s arrival.

Kisumi pauses, takes a breath, and turns around to the toilet. Old habits die hard.

“I bet you’ve not left me any hot water for a shower, hmm?”

“Ah… sorry. I forgot yours isn’t electric…”

“Never mind,” Kisumi shrugs. “Scoot up.”

Haru quietly brings his knees up, the water barely making a ripple around him, and Kisumi drops his boxers to climb in at the opposite end.

“At least this bath is bigger than our one from halls, right?” he laughs.

He can just see Haru’s eyebrows narrowing over his hunched knees. They haven’t done this in _years_.

Yet Haru is surprised just how normal it feels. There’s no tension… there’s no peeping… there’s not even any ( _much_ ) touching. And more importantly, he manages to feel almost guilty for the sheer _lack_ of guilt he feels when Kisumi’s toes accidentally tickle at his thighs.

“Want me to wash your hair?” he offers, the words easing off his tongue. They taste familiar – are familiar – and he finds himself frowning. “Never mind.”

“Not in _bath_ water, anyway, Haru. My hair deserves more than that.” He takes Haru’s ankles in hand, gently extending his legs out into his lap. “Are you doing alright?”

Haru just shrugs but let’s Kisumi rub his feet and legs, twitching as his fingertips tease the sensitive spots on the backs of his knees. He’s confused with just how _done_ he is, and how unnatural it feels to so easily separate himself from his attachment to Rin. It feels so stilted, like it’s all going to come crashing down at a later date if he can’t deal with it properly now. He should be crying, or keeping Kisumi at a firmly platonic distance or just… anything but this strangely _happy_ but mostly confused mind-set he’s found himself in.

He feels a kiss on his cheek and subconsciously reaches out of Kisumi as he comes out of his thoughts, just holding his jaw for a moment, still confused.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need me, kay? And I’ll send Makoto up later,” Kisumi kisses him again, on the head this time, and Haru is left sitting in the lukewarm water feeling even _more_ confused.

 

But Makoto doesn’t make an appearance, and Kisumi is more irritated than he thought he would be. He’s snappy with Ai all afternoon and just leaves him to it at closing, retreating upstairs with a bang of the door.

“ _Kisumi!_ ” Haru snaps, hounding him into the bedroom. “What the _fuck?!_ ”

“I thought he cared about you more than this!” Kisumi plonks on the bed, hunching over himself. “I don’t get it!”

Haru hovers, stepping close in front of him to rub his shoulders. “I bet he’s just confused… and maybe he doesn’t want to be a bother…”

“Stop being so reasonable. You’re supposed to be in tears,” Kisumi burrows into Haru, sulking and teasing at the same time, and Haru just throws it all to hell and slips into his lap, straddling with his knees.

“I’m fine. You’re fine. Chill out,” Kisumi just huffs into the side of Haru’s neck. “I’m gonna see Ai out and lock up. Order Chinese or something?”

“Bedroom picnic?”

“Just like old times.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *so I forgot how to write* So I'm sorry for the delay and that updates for everything are pretty much snails pace for now.


	23. Chapter 23

They sit across from each other with an array of takeout boxes balanced on plates between them. There’s very little actual talking going on, more a hash of stupid giggles. Kisumi leans back against the headboard when he’s full, feeling a lot less pissed off at the world, and watches Haru get their left overs together to put in the fridge and clear the bed of their empty cartons.

“I’m sorry I’m an asshole,” he pats the space next to him, holding out his arms to invite him in.

Haru shrugs and sits, letting Kisumi run his hand up his back. “You’re my asshole. Are you feeling better?”

“Always. And you’re doing, uh, well?”

“Mm… I think so?” Haru tilts his head towards him.

“Good. I was a bit worried there.”

“Don’t be.”

“I know. I just can’t help it. You know… I’m having Nagisa open up tomorrow. Wanna have a few drinks?”

“Drowning my sorrows?”

“More a celebration of freedom. No one to send you an angry text when it’s past your bedtime.”

Haru makes a face. He hasn’t even turned his phone on since he left… there could be any number of texts awaiting him. But if Rin was really trying to contact him… if he was even a little bit worried or cared _at all_ about where Haru had got to, he’d have tried Kisumi. And there’s been nothing. He gulps back an unexpected sob and slips off the bed again, going to the little fridge Kisumi has upstairs for drinks and snacks (because he has a whole industrial kitchen downstairs for his other stuff) and grabs a full pack of cans.

Kisumi doesn’t make a sound as Haru cracks the first can open and takes a large drink. Kisumi is slower with his drink, and is only opening his second when Haru’s on his fourth. They’ve got a box set running on the laptop, paying little attention (Haru focusing on the beer and Kisumi focusing on Haru) and they don’t bother to start season two.

Haru is staggering on his way to the bathroom. Kisumi takes the few minutes to put the laptop away and clean up just a bit, and they meet between the bathroom and bedroom when he’s put the last few cans away. Haru looks at him, head cocked and confused like he’s not even sure why Kisumi exists, but then gets on his toes and puts his arms around his neck.

“I like you. You’re my favourite,” he slurs.

He’s heavy, a dead weight on Kisumi’s neck and he has to hold his back to keep him up. “I like you too. Are you tired? Do you want to go to bed?”

“Mmmm want Kisi bed.”

“And am I allowed to sleep in my bed too?”

“Mmmmmm,” Haru rolls his head onto Kisumi’s shoulder and hiccups.

And then just freezes there, totally unmoving and becoming even more of a lump. Kisumi assumes it’s a yes. “Alright then. You gotta move, though.”

“Nrgh.”

“ _Haru._ ”

“ _Nuuuurgh_ ,” he clings on even tighter and Kisumi feels a sob.

“Hey… alright come here. You ready?” he doesn’t wait for a response and picks him up, much lighter when he’s not trying to sink into the floor and just content to wrap his legs around Kisumi’s waist and be carried.

Haru’s cheeks are stained with tears when he puts him down in the middle of the bed and leans away, yet he’s smiling up at Kisumi. Kisumi gets his jeans off and crawls back towards Haru, lifting his arms up for him to get his top off. He pushes him backwards into the mattress and Haru lets out a little giggled _‘oof’_ when he lands. He’s only wearing some of Kisumi’s borrowed pyjama pants, but lifts his hips up anyway in an obvious hint. Kisumi pushes them back down.

“I forgot how much of a lightweight you could be,” he mumbles, lying down next to Haru and stroking his hair. “You’re going to _hate_ me in the morning.”

Haru blinks, eyes big and vacant, and pushes his nose into Kisumi’s cheek. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Kisumi adjusts them a little, getting Haru onto his side and leaning on his arm. They’re faces are so close their noses are practically touching, and he leans forwards. “Boop. You alright?”

“Missed you…”

“I’m right here.”

“Miss _you_ ,” Haru is more insistent, his voice more forceful, and he pushes forwards just enough to scrape their lips together.

“Haru…” Kisumi starts with the intention of calming him down and rolling him over to sleep, but Haru is apparently having absolutely none of that when he kisses again with more purpose. It’s wet and sloppy, and Kisumi doesn’t know how to respond even if he wasn’t absolutely frozen in shock. But he finally lets his eyes close until Haru pulls away. “You’re drunk, Haru.”

“Maybe,” Haru smiles his trademark drunk-smile, the one where he shows his teeth and looks a bit like an adorable psychopath. “But you love me.”

“ _Haru_ …” this is the part where Kisumi really should just pull the blanket over Haru and evict himself to the couch, because there’s just something in it that just screams _BAD IDEA_ even though he can’t pinpoint it.

“What’s the harm?”

Kisumi stares at him, watches Haru’s eyes close and come closer, kissing him again, holding his face this time. He’s right, but he’s so, _so_ wrong.

“I’m going to hell,” Kisumi thinks out loud and rolls onto his back.

“Going out with a bang though.”

“Just shut up and come here.”

Haru shuffles on top, kissing him again with sad, open eyes, and Kisumi has to close his because he _knows_ Haru doesn’t want this, wouldn’t ever choose it if he was thinking straight. He’s drunk but he’s not _wasted_ – a Haru off his head is usually a Haru half naked in the street looking longingly at puddles – and he realises that he just wants to lose himself. Get lost in a mental haze of booze and sex and well, when has Kisumi ever let him down before?

It’s pure muscle memory to feel each other out again, trace their fingers over lines and curves they haven’t felt in years. Kisumi wants to slow down and just appreciate everything he can, but Haru is moving them forwards just _shamelessly_ , straddling Kisumi’s face and leaning down towards his crotch, where he wastes not a second on any awkward fumbling to get his cock out of the fly of his boxers and into his mouth.

Kisumi peels Haru’s pants down just enough to let his dick fall out and into his hand, stroking gently until he’s hard, and starts to lick at his balls. He reaches for the lube with one hand, a blind stretch to the bedside drawers he only ever does _alone_ these days. One probing finger at Haru’s hole asks for permission, asks if he really wants to go the full whack.

Haru responds by sitting down on his finger to the end.

He struggles to kiss him when he’s on top and thrusting, doesn’t even really want to look at Haru and make it all real… acknowledge what he’s doing, but Haru isn’t giving him much choice. Like he wants every sense to be overloaded until all of him is spent and exhausted. When Kisumi comes Haru is already done, and he’d be asleep if not for his eyes following Kisumi as he wipes them down and gets the blanket.

Kisumi rolls Haru onto his side, spooning in behind him and holding him close. Haru goes to sleep within seconds, and it’s Kisumi who’s left silently crying. Some of it is guilt, some of it is shame, some of it is sympathy, and then some of it is something else he doesn’t want to name.

**Author's Note:**

> Updates should be /fairly/ regular, at least while I'm just rewriting and not trying to spin something shiny and new from the pitfall of my head so... yeah stick around I'm really excited for this.  
> daxii on tumblr


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